Raindrops
by Quicksilvre
Summary: [Major AU] Summer's journey through death: heaven, hell, and everyone and everything you find in the inbetween. CH23 UP: the finale is here!
1. Prolog

Raindrops

Quicksilvre

Note: I own not the O.C. nor am I affiliated with Warner Bros., McG, Josh Schwartz, or anyone else associated with the show. There was a Josh Schwartz in my Stat class one year, but that's it. (No, not the same one.) Also, some objectionable language may appear later. I've always imaged Summer as potentially potty-mouthed. This is my first fanfic since a Gundam campaign two years ago, so if this is all crap, sorry in advance.

"Summer, you gotta get to the casa right now. I don't know what you were doing in LA but–"

"Cohen, I told you. It's my JOB."

"Ohh. Well, uh, report? US History? You know, that one we were doing together? We need to sorta get that done." An awkward pause, the kind Seth was good at making. "But, hey, job's nice too, what are you making?"

"Cohen." Summer Roberts had the worst job in the entire world: casino work. Three days a week, four hours a day, she dealt seven card stud. Half her existence was dealing with balding, overweight men begging for a queen or a heart, dammit.

"You do see how it is raining out there, right?"

"I know, but–"

"No no no. You look out the window. Get Chino if that's too hard. It! Is! Raining!" Indeed, a rare rainstorm had swept into Southern California that morning, and the sheets of rain had fallen since, making travel treacherous. The shoulder was already dotted with spun-out cars. "No, Cohen, do this instead. Listen. No, just listen." Summer rolled down the window of her Trailblazer and stuck her arm and the cell phone out into the roar of the elements. Thunder boomed a distance away. "Do you hear that Cohen? Do you?"

Horns honked behind her. Noticing the light had turned, Summer hit the accelerator and withdrew her hand back into her car. "It's called a storm, Cohen."

"Summer, just...get over here. And be careful too. You got all-wheel drive on?"

She checked the dashboard, pretending to look for it. "It is now."

"You don't even know what I just said, do you?"

"As if you do."

"Well...yeah! Really!"

"Cohen, I'll be there. Let me get home and change first though, I'm still in my uniform."

"All right. Like, how long will it be?"

"Half an hour."

"Excellent! Have dinner here too."

"Takeout again?"

"Chinese."

"Keep a dumpling warm if I'm late."

"Will do, Sum."

Summer clicked off the phone and rolled the window the rest of the way up. _Great_. The wind was growing worse and had blown plenty of water into the cabin. The whole left side of her face had a thin sheen of water. "Grrr." She tried shaking some off, but to no avail. She needed a hair dryer, stat.

It seemed, though, that she was the only person in the whole state that even noticed the rain; traffic was still going down the freeway at seventy miles an hour. A craptastic Yugo, trying to make the exit, cut in front of her perilously. Honking the horn, Summer got the driver's attention and flashed a gesture while mouthing, _Moron!!_ The day at work was bad enough. The guy in seat four had spent a half-hour trying to look down the front of her blouse and two players spilled drinks on the deck. She desperately needed a shower, just to wash the day away.

The screech of failing breaks snapped her back into attention. Four cars were piled up in her lane, the left lane. Gasping, Summer turned the wheel hard right, making the back of her car fly up and spin out. She flew down the road, bounced off of the knot of wrecked cars, and skidded off the road to the right, stopping in a drainage ditch. The car was intact, mostly, though its sides had buckled and every window was broken.

"Gah...gah gah...." Summer sat trembling, her breath coming in dry sobs. A whimper rose in her throat, but caught somewhere. Everything went dark for a moment, then a moment of tunnel vision. In front of her was a smashed windshield, a bent steering wheel.

A few seconds later, the horn of an eighteen-wheeler deafened her, and the last thing Summer Roberts saw in the world was the undercarriage of the enormous vehicle coming down upon her. The ceiling came down upon her, wedging her head on top of the wheel and her body between the seat and the dash. She screamed, but she had already lost all sight. For a few moments she could feel her body slowly get crushed and ripped apart, but soon she felt nothing. For a little bit longer, she could smell the rain, and spilling gasoline, but in a few minutes, her body had no more life than a damp rag.


	2. The Sea of People

Raindrops

Quicksilvre

Note: I don't own the O.C., blah blah blah. Yeah, you know the routine. Warning: School is crazy right now; I don't know when I'll be able to write up chapters. So, hang in there.

-)-)-)-)

She remembered the sensation of being crushed and the smell of gas, but all of that...faded away. She lost the feeling on the metal pressing into her skin, or the seat she was strapped to...all that was left for Summer was an odd, floating feeling. When she tried moving her leg, nothing happened.

"Oh...oh no. No, this is...this is bad." It wasn't that it was broken–she would have felt pain if she tried moving a broken leg. She didn't feel her leg at all–or anything else. She tried to open her eyes, see where she was–

Nothing.

"Oh, shit. Ohhhhh..." She blinked her fluttering eyes. She could feel her eyelids move up and down, but she could only feel her face. She felt her eyes water; a few tears slid down her face, but when they dripped from her cheek, they fell to oblivion.

A sob broke through her lips unexpectedly. She tried to hold them back, but images caught up to her–lying limply in a hospital bed, a stupefied expression on her face; her being wheeled around in a chair; her prostrate in bed, accompanied only by a TV she couldn't see. Nothing could hold the storm back. Another sob pushed though, and another, followed by pure hysterics. Tears fell as hard as the raindrops, and her sobs roared like thunder–loudly, abruptly, and uncontrollably.

_Cohen. Daddy. Marissa. Chino. Kirsten and Sandy. _One by one, they floated through her mind–those she would never see again. They would talk to her and take care of her, but as soon as they were out of earshot, they would express their horror. From self-pity, anger entered her mind. _Why? Why couldn't you've just taken the bus? Why did you have to take the freeway?_

"Why?" More sobs wracked Summer's body. She hoped she was in a hospital somewhere; maybe a nurse would see her and try to comfort her. As if she could fix anything.

A slight breeze rustled by her damp cheek. _Am I still in the car? That couldn't be, could it? _Forgetting her blindness, she tried to look around. After blinking a few times, she could notice some dark blobs on a light field. It didn't look like the freeway, but it wasn't a hospital room, either.

"What...what is going on?"

She felt an ache from her stomach. Obviously, it had been strained by her sobs. _Wait–my stomach? _She put her hand down to feel what was wrong–_My hand! _She was able to stick it in front of her face. Her fingers still tingled, and she could only see a blob with five thinner blobs coming from it, but feeling and sight were definitely coming back.

She felt her feet touch something; her knees, not ready to hold her up, buckled, and she fell into a heap on the ground. She landed on something soft–at least, she wasn't hurt. She was able to roll on her side, and a few blinks later, her sight was almost back to what it was.

The sight that met her eyes made Summer gasp involuntarily.

Above her, from a height of maybe fifty of feet, people were slowly floating downward. Far above, two-winged creatures would fly in, with a person in their tow. After they got into position, their livery would be untied and would start his or her descent.

She strained her eyes. _Ohmigod. Oh...my...God. Are those... _The flying creatures looked just like people, save their huge feathered wings. _Angels. _They all had...odd expressions on their faces. Not the joyous ones she'd seen in books or the few times she'd been in a church. They all looked very busy, rather purposeful

_Oh my God, I'm dead!! _Her hands flew to her head. Looking up again, she realized how many of those floating down were old, or obviously desiccated by illness. Her vision blurred again; this time, she was able to feel the sobs rise in her throat.

She sat down, hiding her eyes on the inside of one elbow. "No, this isn't happening. I'm going to wake up in a few minutes, and this will all be fine, and I'm going to call Cohen and make sure I'm still alive." She slapped herself across her face, hoping that would wake her up.

Nothing. She tried a little harder, still, she saw nothing but the plain landscape and people floating down. She took a deep breath, reared up, and smacked herself as hard she could allow, so hard she knocked her own head to the ground.

For a few seconds, she rubbed her head into the ground and kept her eyes clenched shut. She missed her cheek and gotten herself square on the nose, and the pain was nearly unbearable. The huddled like that for a minute, convincing herself that her head was on her pillow, and her back was covered by a blanket.

No such luck. She laid out on the ground, on her side. The ground was completely featureless, and as white as the sky.

She felt her body shutter again. "No...I'm too young to die...." Curling up into the fetal position, she tucked her head in helplessly. "Wake up...wake up...waaaake uppp...."

-)-)-)-)

She woke up. She jolted up and looked around her surroundings for a moment in confusion, but then she remembered–the wreck, the dying, the floating, the landing.

She sat back down, and laid back, her legs folded under her. Still people floated down; the sky was positively thick with them. Many of them, especially the older ones, seemed quite happy to be dead. Upon landing, they all headed off–and in the same direction, to Summer's left.

"Well, I guess, if I'm going to be dead, I might as well...get moving." She picked herself up and headed in the same direction. To be sure, there was no way to tell that she was headed in the right direction–it still looked like she was inside some huge, white building, with those white, padded floors. But, everyone was headed that way...and it felt oddly right. That way, it seemed, lead to safety.

She looked a little more at those around her. By their appearance and their clothes, it seemed as though death had excellent representation worldwide–not surprising. No one was speaking, or doing anything else other than stretching their necks forward, seeing if heaven was ahead.

Heaven. The place where people went where they died, supposedly. If they were good. _If._ Summer was pretty sure that didn't include spending all day at the mall and drinking at 15. She rubbed her shoulders, trying to convince herself of a good fate–she was still in her uniform. _Crap._ It was hardly the way she wanted to present herself.

She realized she needed a hairbrush, badly, but she decided to not expect one.

She walked on. There wasn't too many people who looked like her; a lot of kids her age were putting off death for a later date. However, there wasn't anyone stuck, unable to walk; even the most rickety great-grandmother was moving at a brisk pace. They all seemed as healthy as ever–_a good sign_, she thought.

An hour passed, then two. Or so she thought; there was no way to tell. Didn't look like it was going to be too much longer, though–the black horizon was giving way to a huge crowd. A din could just be heard in the distance.

-)-)-)-)

It looked like there could easily be ten thousand people around her–and that was just those she could see. They were packed fifty and sixty deep against a wall, trying to get in though a bunch of gates to...hard to tell.

Summer sucked in as much of herself as she could and moved, sideways, though the sea of people. She was able to slide though thin spaces, especially if she shoved, but by the time she was halfway there, she hit a roadblock. Two huge lunks, in identical fatigues, blocked the way in front of her, and some old chubby guys boxed her in on the sides. "Oh, well, this is just great."

She heard shouts behind her, right before the woman behind her was launched forward by those behind her. "Oof! Watch it!" Someone to her right was a little too eager to get in, too; one more hard push sent her flying into the chubby guy to her right. Summer couldn't quite tell, but she could swear the guy she bumped into tried to cop a feel.

"Ewww! Out of my _way!_" Just enough space opened between the two soldiers for her to move between, and soon, the crush thinned as she neared the door. It took twenty minutes of shoving, squeezing, and getting her feet stepped on, but Summer slid through the gate, and walked down a short, black corridor.

Before her was a bright, white light. She went forward. _Won't have to wait much longer now, I guess._

-)-)-)-)

Seth was in his bathrobe–as he had been for the last two weeks.

It was bad enough she died, but he had been the one who had to identify her. Her dad was out of town, Marissa high-tailed it out of Orange County as soon as she heard, and her step-mom...who knew where she was?

It had taken the rescuers sixteen hours to free her–she was long gone by then. Her face was still mostly intact, besides some scrapes. But the body....

It was a closed-casket funeral, had to be. The preacher talked about Summer being swept away at the height of youth, her suffering on Earth quenched early. Nothing of being crushed to death under twisted steel and a shipment of tires.

He poked his head into the fridge, for the eleventh time that day. In the door, right where it could be best seen, was a Chinese dumping, sitting in a plastic bag. Seth looked at the dumpling for a moment, as he had the other ten times, and then, slowly closed the door and wandered back to bed.


	3. As High as the Clouds

Raindrops

Quicksilvre

Warning: I own nothing associated with The O.C., but, thanks to the Fair Use Act of 1975, no one can touch me for this. Ha ha ha.

-)-)-)-)

The light on the other side of the gate was bright–painfully so for Summer, who did her best to shield her eyes with her arm. It hardly made any difference; it was so bright the rays went right through. She could see two perfect arm bones, inside her body. The light made it, and everything else, as transparent as a window.

_I wish I brought sunscreen._

Summer continued to walk forward. Her manner was far calmer than those around her–some were dancing, chanting, running forward, sure that they were going to get a just reward for the time they spent on earth. Others were trying to back away and go back through the gate, weeping. The guards, all armed with whips, had to keep half the crowd from stampeding in the wrong direction.

The end was near–maybe fifty yards ahead. Summer had both her arm in front of her face and her eyelids clamped shut, but even then, there was that penetrating white light. She groaned, ducked her head down, and started a slow jog.

_Oh, please let this be it. Please let this be it. _She took the vest from her uniform off and wrapped it around her head–it added a little bit of comfort, but not much. _God, just...turn this down a notch, would you? Do you want to blind everyone?_

Abruptly the ground under her stopped, and Summer fell down–but not far, just a few feet before she landed on what felt like a huge pillow. The light faded.

"Wha..."

Before she could say anything or remove her blinders, an authoritative voice barked out, "Summer Roberts of Newport Beach, California, you have arrived to the gate. Please hang on; it is a smooth ride from here to trial but the flight is perilous. Keep your hands and feet on the cloud at all times."

"What–cloud? Wait a second, bucko, I didn't agree to this." She peeled her vest off and threw it away. It flew off the edge of the cloud, down to the...it was too high up to see if there was a ground beneath her. The cloud itself was tiny, only a bit bigger than a beanbag chair, and as soft and fluffy as one would expect. It was attached by a cable to another one, which held a gentleman in a smart steward's uniform and a steering wheel.

"That is not necessary, all those who pass through here are dropped, picked up, processed, tried, and sent to their ultimate fate." He looked back at Summer. He didn't seem to her to be a satanic minion, but he hardly looked cherubic, either. He looked like he could be a regular at Summer's table.

"I want to go back."

"Not my decision. Just doing my job, miss."

Summer sighed and started to argue, but then realized she didn't have any idea what to say. "Well, fine, who are you?"

"I'm a cloud driver. I do this all day."

"Any name?"

"None you need to know." He looked back at her. "So, how'd you go?"

"Me and a Trailblazer flew off the highway and a truck crushed me."

"Shame! You probably had a lot of living left." He started to sound more relaxed. The driver looked off to the side, sort of reflectively. "Not a lot of cars in my town, when I died there weren't many anywhere. I remember when the first one–"

"Uh, guy, sir, watch the, uh, sky." Summer hands were dug into her cloud as they tried to hold onto something solid. They were streaking across the sky at a terrifying speed, judging how the wind whipped by.

"Oh, don't worry, if you fall off you just fall for a while. Another one'll just pick you up. Anyway, I've done this for, oh, ninety years it must be now, and no one that I've driven has been kept from what they were gettin' because of me."

"That's...nice." Summer looked all around her–another featureless, white landscape. "So...what's it like?"

"What?"

"Death?"

"You tell me–you're dead, ain't you?"

She rolled her eyes. "I mean, after all of this is over."

"Depends. Depends on what you believed and what you did. Me, I liked to work. Sitting around all day was too boring. This gets me outta the house. Get to meet some real interesting folks too."

"So, it's not all blankness or anything."

"Oh! No, no." The driver pilled a couple of levers. "Okay, off you go. Best of luck, Miss Roberts. Need a job, think about contacting us."

"Okay–AAAAAGGGGGHHHHHHHHH!" The cable between the driver's cloud and Summer's cut away, and Summer's proved to be unsuited for flight. Summer spiraled down, down, down...

"Oh my God–oh my GOD!" Summer closed her eyes and buried her head into the cloud, hoping to pad her landing. "Oh God oh God oh God if you can hear this, tell Seth Cohen I love him...Sorry about the wreck...and forget about the dumpling...."

Summer felt herself hit something springy, then get thrown right back into the air. She her cloud get peeled from her grasp. Petrified, she opened her eyes–

CA-CHUNG! She bounced off the trampoline again. Her second bounce was still high, forty feet at least. "What the _hell_?" She could see the trampoline's edges, but just barely–it was football-field sized at least. Others right behind her were bouncing about as well.

CA-CHUNG...CHUHCHUHCHUH... One more good bounce and a short slide, and Summer was stopped, at the edge of the trampoline. Before her was a single, windowless door, labeled "Processing."

"Okay...end of the line, I guess." She stepped off the trampoline (carefully, lest there be other surprises) and went in the door.

"Processing" looked just like any doctor's or dentist's office she had ever seen, complete with receptionist. She walked up to the desk. "Erm...Summer Roberts."

"All right...yeah, here you are." The receptionist typed her in. "We got you right here. Good to see you on time. Room 612, please–sixth floor. Elevator is to your right."

"Thanks." She looked over–the closest one was just closing. "Wait–WAIT! Hold it!"

-)-)-)-)

Sandy Cohen craned his neck as he drove by an underpass. He had been working with police since Marissa left, trying to find out where she was. He was unofficially head of the search, at least within the clique. Jimmy was too busy beating himself up, and Julie seemed to have decided that Marissa was going to do her own thing no matter what she did. Ryan had been looking too, but found nothing.

This bridge, however, was much more promising. It was one of the favored hangouts for the homeless, as it kept the sun and rain out, and now was no exception. Two dozen people were camped out. Sandy pulled over to take a closer look.

Closest to him was an old gentleman in fatigues. "Excuse me, but I'm looking for someone. She's about eighteen, white, real thin, brownish hair–name's Marissa. Has she been around here?"

"Hmmm." The description was familiar to the gentleman. "I saw someone like that just today. Arrived here last night. Other side."

"_Thank_ you." Sandy went farther under the bridge, scanning all around until he spotted who he was looking for. She was curled up tightly in a ball, her face buried in her knees. He came over slowly–just in case she freaked when she saw him.

"Hey, hon."

Marissa's head snapped up. She looked unwashed, and even more gaunt than usual. Head to toe, she was covered in dust, and her eyes were red and bloodshot. "What is it? Tell my parents I'm not going back."

"You have to go back one way or another. You can go back with me, stay with us for a few weeks, or you can go back with the police. They've been combing two counties for you."

"Let the police get me, then."

Sandy sighed. "This has been hard on all of us." No response. "You're welcome at our place any time."

"That's kind of you." Marissa spat it out furiously, avoiding Sandy's gaze.

"Well." Sandy looked at Marissa and Marissa looked at the ground. "I take it you're not coming back." Sandy kept his gaze and Marissa stayed silent. "By God, kid, don't stay here. Go to the Y or something." Still nothing. "Okay. See you...soon, I hope."

He looked at her for a few more seconds. Marissa was still motionless, having apparently decided to consider Sandy gone. He turned and walked back to her car.

After driving a block, he whipped his cell phone out. "Hello, Kirsten? Found her. No, she's not with me, but I got where she is. I'll tell you the intersection; call the police and give them the location."

-)-)-)-)

Was that all right? Sorry about the lack of action, I promise there will be some more coming pretty soon. When that next chapter is, I'm not sure. Within a week, hopefully, but I don't know. I'll try to get it in soon.


	4. Nothing But Tears

Raindrops

Quicksilvre

Note: I do not own The O.C. nor do I control any part of its making. Still, I'm going to push on ahead. For the little person. (No, I have no idea what that means either, but...I'll just get on with it before I confuse myself, here ; )

-)-)-)-)

Summer looked uneasily at the door to 612. She breathed deep, calming herself. She hadn't any idea to what laid on the other side. An interview? A test of some sort? Instructions? "God, who knows," she murmured softly.

She put one ear to the door, trying to see if she could hear something. Straining herself, she was able to hear the rustle of papers. "Hmm. Could be anything."

She took one last deep breath, and turned the doorknob slowly. Pushing the door open, she peeked inside cautiously.

An old man, with a very thick and white beard, was sitting at a desk. Summer wondered at first whether it was Him, but decided it unlikely. If he was a divine being, she decided, he had a poor fashion sense. Flannel and blue jeans made up his outfit.

He looked up. His face completed the sort of mountain-man Santa look to him. "Miss Roberts?"

"Yes."

"Sit down, please." He gestured to a simple wooden chair across from him. Summer took her seat. "Welcome to death. Hope you've had a nice journey so far."

She couldn't tell if he had a genuine tone to him. He sounded a lot like a high-school principal. "Uh...kinda good to see that it's a lot like home."

"Yeah. Each person's...experience is shaped for them. From here on, you're put on your own road." He opened a manila folder that laid in front of him. "And, a lot of what you have to do on that road and where it takes you depends on what you did while you were still living."

"Oh." She swallowed. Summer didn't really like the _road_ this was taking. Trying to think about the virtues she could present for herself, she found distressingly few things: changing for the better with Seth, volunteering at the hospital...not killing anyone....

"Now. Let's take a look." The man put on reading glasses and scanned some papers from her folder. "Family life...unstable. Very powerful father, great influence over your life. Mother...gone at an early age, followed by...many step-moms and nannies." He glanced up. "Yes?"

"Yes." She nodded and curled her knees up. Memories of sleepless nights came back to her–curled up with Princess Sparkle, listening to Daddy and Mommy–or Christine or Samantha or Lauren–screaming at each other.

Sometimes, really late at night, when they were at their most drunken, she would hear a loud smack, and her father's new squeeze would storm out, threatening to call the police.

"I...he never hurt me."

"Yeah." The man flipped through a few more pages. "Let's see how _you _are."

Summer hugged her knees tighter. She was seriously starting to dread this. "Sir, I–"

"Call me Keyne."

"Mr. Keyne, I...." The words stuck. Keyne stared at her, looking over the tops of his lenses. "I...I...I _tried_." She shut her mouth fast. _God, stupid, that's the best you could do?_

He just nodded. Summer continued to ramble: "I know. I know. I didn't do a lot. I didn't even do as much as other kids my age." She felt panic slowly rising within her. "I didn't know a lot–I mean, cashmere and Kashmir? I know how that looks and how that sounds but I _tried _to get better. I had all those magazines and newspapers the day after!" Her voice rose to hit an embarrassing whine.

He looked back down to her papers. "Was it for the guy?" Another glance down. "Zach?"

Tears stung her eyes all of a sudden. "Yes–no, I mean...." She lowered her face, unable to look Keyne in the eye. "I know. I know. I know." She rocked herself.

"What do you know?"

"I know that I don't know." A pause. "Like, _anything_." Her last word was punctuated with a little sob.

"That's a very good thing to know. How about anything else?"

Summer tried to breathe easily. She was able to keep from bursting into tears outright, but her breath was coming out in jerks.

"You all right?"

"Does it matter?"

"Well...sure. I'm not here to torture you. Just, improve you."

"_Improve_," she said miserably. _What's left to improve?_

Keyne opened his mouth, as if he was going to reply directly, but he changed gears. "Now, mostly the road you choose will be up to you. I'm just here to get you started." He kept reading. "Here." He handed her a handkerchief.

"No, I.'m alright...mostly." After quickly dabbing her eyes, she handed it back.

"Can I give you a bit of advice?"

"Yeah?"

"You're too dependent."

"Yeah."

"Father, Seth, Zach, Seth again. The boys in your life. You seem to say, a lot, that you'll go on your own but you never quite do."

"Yeah."

"Not that it's horrible to have role-models, or anything like that. But...I would really like to see you be able to strike out on your own and have healthy relationships too. You know what I'm saying? Be someone, while being someone else's _whatever_ to an OK degree."

"Uh, yeah." _Sort of_.

"Good." He closed her envelope. "Let me write you out."

"Where...do I go from here?"

"You find what you need."

"What do I need?"

"What _do_ you need?"

"Can't you tell me?"

"No. I wouldn't know."

"Nothing? You have the _folder!_" Another whine. Summer was having trouble keeping her frustration under control.

"Oh, yeah. This is yours now." He handed her file to her. "Do as you'd like with it. Personally I'd give it a good look-through." Keyne finished her pass. "Please sign on the line and you'll just go through the portal at the end of the hallway."

"Am I going to heaven?"

"Not yet."

"Where am I going?!"

Keyne nodded. "You're going." He handed her a pen. "Sign, please. We're done here."

She looked at him, straight in the eye. His eyes were a polar opposite from the rest of his scruffy body–deep blue, almost infinately so, and somehow powerful. He nodded. "Good. I liked that. Very assertive of you."

_What? _Summer didn't know how to respond. She took the pen from his hand, looked at him one last time, and signed.

Keyne nodded again. "Have a nice existence, Miss Roberts. I wish you well. The portal will be on your right when you leave, I would stop by the water fountain or bathroom if you need them–they're on the way and you'll do well to use them if you need them."

-)-)-)-)

Summer gulped thirstily from the fountain. She hadn't anything to eat or drink she had...passed, and that was, what? Hours ago? Days? It was hard to tell. She wasn't hungry; it couldn't have been too long.

On the other hand, death did weird things.

The portal was right in front of her–another bright light. Not blinding, but strong enough to make seeing to the other side impossible.

She sat on a bench, not five paces from it.

_Do as you'd like with it. Personally I'd give it a good look-through_. She looked at it.

The thing was, it didn't look like anything that she expected. It was just a few pages thick, plus some information scrawled on the outside: "Planned on future in fashion...senior in high school...sexually active...favorites: red, chocolate, _The Valley_, pina coladas...."

Shame swelled up in her. That was it–that was all she contributed to the world. A few lines here, and a few lines there. A year, maybe two, and she would be like she'd never existed. Her dad could be gone by then too; given the way she lived, maybe Marissa too. Cohen would go east, marry Anna, and have another woman's family. Chino...he was too distant for her to make a big impact. She suddenly felt very small and very unimportant.

A sob escaped–just one, but a powerful one, making her whole body twitch. She clamped her hand hard over her mouth, but it wouldn't be enough. Another sob pushed out, and soon they were coming right after another, in a steady stream. She didn't cry for Cohen, for Daddy–she cried for herself.

She cried at what she was, and what she wasn't. And there was no one left to hold her up.

_I would really like to see you be able to strike out on your own. _"Yeah, fat chance," she snarled at herself.

_Be someone, while being someone else's whatever to an OK degree. _She breathed again–wobbly, but without choking up.

_Be someone. Be someone._ "Become someone...I guess." She wiped her face off–she wished she still had the handkerchief.

"Become _what??_" In a sudden fit of rage, she threw her folder across the hall. "What what _what_??"

_Someone._

"_Shit!_" She doubled over. She didn't even try to hold in the tears this time.

-)-)-)-)

She sucked in the last of her tears and wiped her face on her sleeve. It hardly did anything but smudge her face up; it was already pretty well saturated.

Nothing left. That is what Summer decided she had. And she had only one escape available for her.

All of her papers were gathered, messily, under her arm. She was only two steps from the portal. Even from this close, she couldn't see a damn thing on the other side.

She took one tentative step forward, then...the second never quite came. Her foot remained frozen to the floor.

Another tear escaped down her cheek. Summer wiped it away quickly. _I still have those left. _Another one slid down.

"Nothing left to fear now." She wiped her other cheek. "Nothing but tears." She paused and readied herself again. "Nothing to lose except those."

She drew one last deep breath for the road, and the second step came easily.

-)-)-)-)

A shopping mall.

The afterlife was a damn shopping mall. The first sight that greeted her eyes make her mouth twist into a bitter smile. "Oh, good. Something I'm good at." Looking around, she didn't notice any other check-in desk. There was only one sign:

"Prepare as you would a long vacation or a camping trip. However, you may find it advantageous to add items that may be traded for other things. Many of you will go on long journeys; pack accordingly. Take all you can carry in a backpack (supplied, below)."

Summer took one. None of them were very magical; none of them would even have been out of place in a L.L. Bean catalogue.

"Okay." She put her sack on. "I guess it starts."


	5. A Dusty Road

Raindrops

Quicksilvre

Note: I don't own The O.C. I just...don't. SO STOP ASKING!! :) Also, I've jacked the rating from PG to PG-13, as Summer decides to loosen her lips just a little. Nothing horrible; nothing you wouldn't hear in a junior high school, at least.

-)-)-)-)

Summer breathed and pushed the weight onto her back. She didn't realize how little it took to load up a normal-sized backpack, so she switched it for a camper's pack, and _god, _they held a _lot_. It wasn't too totally packed, at least not yet, but she was starting to feel the weight build up. Groaning, she wished she hadn't have sat out so many gym periods. Blowing out her back, she had already decided, was probably a bad way to start the afterlife. She decided to settle down onto a bench before getting more stuff.

She sighed. _C'mon, Sum, think about it...what'll you need to eat to stay upright?_ Fortunately, and for the first time since she had her ride on the cloud, she had plenty of company–others on their own journeys.

Plenty of them could tell clueless Californians what they would need on their own journeys, for example.

"Have plenty of clothes?" was one they always said. How much was a different matter–three days' worth, said one. Four or five, said another. A week's worth, said another–but that was a guy with _crazy_ big muscles; there was no way she could carry _that _much.

Summer decided that wearing clothes two days in a row would quickly lose its ew-factor. She had a few changes of underwear, two pairs of jeans (one of which she was already wearing–she was grateful to at least get out of her uniform), some shorts, a few shirts (ditto), a baseball cap, and a sweatshirt, all folded and rolled as tightly as they could be and stuffed in. Nothing stylish; now wasn't the time for that.

She also picked up some other items that she saw that seemed pretty important–bandages, a mysterious spray can of "first aid," a Swiss Army knife, a hairbrush, a lighter, and a deck of playing cards.

The food section was up ahead. Summer had no idea how much she would need–or how she was going to prepare it. Cold Spaghetti-Os sent a chill up her spine that no dose of reality could reverse. She sighed and pushed her feet down, preparing to lift her pack back up.

This dying thing was _hard_.

-)-)-)-)

Summer knew she had changed, at least a little bit, when she got excited when she found mini-burners that hug from her pack.

She had gotten that for the road–that and some cans of random crap. Ravioli, a lot of it was–she picked up a lot when she realized how long it had been since she last had it. That, and some of the dreaded O's. Stuff that fit in a very small space–but all of her stuff was adding up.

_Okay. That's clothes and food. What else do I need?_ Summer pondered if she could get anything else. Shelter was going to be far too heavy–even the lightest tents were going to be too much. She found a sleeping bag, the smallest that they had, that she could carry...still, anything beyond that was going to be backbreaking. She also remember the sign at the front of the (store? warehouse?) and picked up a few bracelets and necklaces. Nothing particularly special could be found, but she hoped it would be enough to trade for anything she needed. On top of that was a one-liter water bottle, pre-filled and frozen.

Food, shelter, clothes, water, stuff to trade. What else? Summer found herself in a mind-freeze. "Is...that it?" _That's everything, isn't it? _No one was around to tell her otherwise; everyone who had been a help seemed to have vanished. "Uh...time to go...I guess."

She looked around for the exit, and saw a sign–the same kind found at school, the kind with EXIT in red letters.

The familiarity comforted her, just a little.

-)-)-)-)

There were apparently very few exits out. Summer found herself behind fifty other people at the exit–but the line was moving fairly swiftly out.

She adjusted her backpack again. She hoped she didn't have to be out in the elements for long–the backpack alone was going to kill her. Besides, she had only about a week's worth of food, including some emergency supplies. The first place she needed to find was a boarding house.

A knot started to form in her stomach. She took a few more deep breaths. "You'll survive," she whispered to herself.

_You have to survive. You can't leave things like this._

She looked ahead again–the door was coming very quickly. Two large men stood on either side of it. One checked each person's pack as the other checked their pass. The whole process took just a few seconds, but every once in a while, someone would be sent back. Everyone who was rejected went straight back into the store–to pick up something they had forgotten, Summer decided.

_Okay. Got everything?_ Summer considered what she was carrying. _All right, close enough–if I go back I go back._ Just three people in front of her now. She was close enough to hear and see what went on with the line more clearly–the inspection, a bit of chatter, then, the traveler was given a map and the best of luck.

"Okay, Summer, deep, easy breaths. You'll be okay." She peeked out the door as one person stepped out. A lush-looking grassland awaited. "All right. Not so bad."

The guy in front of her stepped forward, took off his sack, and handed over his papers. All three spoke in English. "All right, I'm set."

"Okay." The first guard glanced at his papers, scribbled a signature, and returned the papers. The other one finished looking through his pack.

"You'll need this." The second guard finished his inspection, pulled a jacket from the pack, and zipped it up.

"Thanks." The man put on his jacket and his pack, accepted a map from the first guard, and went out the door, into a snowy, cloudy vista.

_What? Wait...where...._

"Miss?"

"Oh!" She took her sack off and slid it to the second guard. "Sorry." She handed her papers over.

"No problem." The guard checked her off. "Here." He handed over the next map on the pile. Summer took a look, and her mouth involuntarily went into a grimace.

_It's blank! What the hell is THIS??_

"All right, everything looks good." The second guard was zipping her pack back up. "Best of luck, miss."

She looked first at the first guard and then at the second. She looked back onto the map–suddenly, everything appeared.

Not a lot of options–just a road, but it was a start.

"Thanks." She kept her eyes on the map as she put her pack back on, then turned to the door. Her land was warm and dusty, with palm trees to either side of her. The was only one way to go–through the trees via a stamped trail.

She stepped out. After hearing the guards say "Next" for one last time, the door shut behind her.

Summer looked over her shoulder–everything was gone. The huge building she had been in had evaporated away, and the only thing left that she could see was the path winding back into thicker trees. It was the same in front of her–the path and thick trees.

She adjusted her pack one last time. "Okay. No time to fuck around any longer." She looked back down at her map. It seemed as though there was more of the same until the path went through a settlement, about ten or twelve miles away.

She folded up the map and put it in her pocket. _Please, God, protect me. Protect me and everyone left in Newport. But don't let _me _screw up too badly._ She looked forward, back again one last time, and started on her way.


	6. The Way It Was

Raindrops

Quicksilvre

-)-)-)-)

Summer munched thoughtfully on the last ravioli in the tin. For something that was cooked in the can on that tiny thing, and eaten with the fork of a Swiss Army knife...it was actually pretty good.

She had made it to her day-one objective–a stream on the map, four or five miles down the road. It had taken a three-hour hike, but fortunately, she had brought her sneakers to work on her last day. She got there just as the sun was getting low in the sky, with enough time to lay out her sleeping sack under a nice, sturdy tree, and get her burner and some food cooked before the sun set.

And what a sunset it was. The Orange County sunsets were real nice, especially from the pier, but this one took the cake. The stream cut through the palms, leaving a perfect view of the horizon. The whole western half of the sky was pure orange, interrupted only by blue- and purple- flecked clouds. It was maybe the most incredible thing she had ever seen.

Half-off sales paled in comparison now.

Summer drank the last bit of sauce out of the can. She hoped she could get more food at the settlement ahead, but just in case, she was getting the last bit out of everything. Anyway, the sauce was good too, no complaints there.

A little was left on her chin. There wasn't anything around to wipe it off on, really; but there were some scattered palm leaves around that did the job.

_I'll have to save some in case I have to go to the bathroom_, she remembered. _Wait. Bathroom. Oh, **hell**_. "I forgot the toilet paper! Shit!" She flung the empty can away in anger. _Stupid. How could you forget something so basic? Why didn't those dudes warn me?_

She grunted and groaned to herself. "Ew," she finally managed. _Okay, it wasn't them–_you _forgot about it. You'll just deal. Who knows, you might not need it, town's maybe a day away._

She got up and sat down on a boulder, next to her sleeping back and knapsack. She looked at her supplies, laid out on the dirt. "This is my life now, I guess," she said to herself.

She closed her eyes. _Not my life. This is my death._

-)-)-)-)

Nightfall came fast. Summer considered building a fire, staying awake a little while longer. She needed to just sit down and _think_ for a little bit. Nature wasn't cooperating, though; ominous looking clouds were rolling in as fast as the sun was going down.

Even with her novice-camping, toilet paper-forgetting, fashion oriented mind, she knew that a sleeping bag wouldn't be enough if it rained. Worse, the rest of her stuff would get wet–including her little cooker. With the little light left, she gathered up the largest, broadest palm leaves she could find and laid them on top of her sack and on her sleeping bag. It was a seriously crappy shelter, but it was the best she could do.

And besides, it was only for one night. How bad could it be?

-)-)-)-)

About two hours after the sun set, the rain rolled in. One moment, everything was dry, and the next, Summer was getting pummeled by buckets of freezing water. The tree she was parked under only stopped some of it, and the leaves we no help–they made things worse, probably; they got soaked quickly, making everything wet and heavy.

Summer trembled in the cold. After peeling all of the crap from her sleeping bag, she tried to snuggle herself as far from the angry weather as she could. The bag itself was mostly waterproof, but water was starting to sneak in through the open side and the seams. She got into the fetal position, curling her legs up as well as she could.

It was just like the night on the freeway.

She zipped up the open side as closed as it would go before it cut off her breathing. It helped a little, but Summer could feel her clothes begin to grow damp. Curling up tighter, she tried to imagine herself somewhere else–anywhere else.

She wanted to be at the mall, shopping for another pair of shoes. She wanted to be home, just vegging out in front of the TV. She wanted to chat with Marissa–with her father, for that matter. She wanted to be back on the pier, overlooking the water at an OC sunset.

She even wanted to be back at school, if it meant getting out of the rain.

Most of all, she wanted Seth. She wanted to be in a real bed, snuggled up against him. Even if that was impossible, she wanted him to come down the road, climb into the sleeping bag with her, and hold her.

And she could feel him right against her, and breathe in his scent all night.

She clenched her eyes shut as tight as she could, but the familiar sting came back. Seth was gone, maybe forever. Those days were over.

She relaxed herself, slightly uncurling herself inside the sleeping bag. Her head found itself outside, having pushed its way through the hole and forcing it to unzip. As Summer drifted off to sleep, the tears on her face melded with the raindrops falling from the sky, as they both trailed off her face and dropped into the dust.

-)-)-)-)

Summer felt something rustle by her cheek–a spider. "Ew!" Taking as good of a swing as she could manage at it, she missed–but managed to scare it away.

She got out of the sleeping bag, very stiffly. The position she finally fell asleep in was very awkward, leaving her arm and legs numb. She slid out–not too far out of it, there were patches of mud all around–to stretch. Damp locks of her dark hair were matted on her forehead.

The rain was gone, at least, and the sun was already warming up the ground. Birds were calling somewhere in the distance. A lovely, idyllic morning in every way...except for the leaves in her hair and the tingle of pinched limbs. "Ew," she repeated, this time more calmly. She tried to run her fingers through her hair, hitting bits of all sorts of stuff. "All right, I'm going to at least wash my hair."

The stream was just off the road, maybe ten feet from it at its closet point. Getting the brush from her pack (and praising herself for at least keeping _one_ thing dry overnight), she took her shoes and socks off and gingerly climbed down to the water.

"Ahhhh...that is _cold_." As her feet slid under the water, it felt like a thousand little needles were poking away at her. Summer had to make sure nothing was biting her. Still, after she acclimated herself, Summer was glad to at least have some place to wash up. In the ankle-deep water, she squatted down and dipped the top of her head in the stream, running her fingers through her mane to get everything out. The stream's current was soothing, gently pushing her hair around and kissing her scalp without putting her in any danger of being swept away.

After a minute of this, she put her head back up and started brushing. Summer started to go back to her mini-camp, but instead settled on a rock by the stream's edge–after all, she didn't want to have to wash more stuff out by the time she got up there.

Stroke by stroke and tangle by tangle, Summer was able to restore one thing back to the way it was.

Sighing, she curled up on the rock, hugging her knees to her chest. The stream was just as beautiful as the sunset the night before–colorful, natural, unspoiled by anything.

_Maybe I am in heaven. _She remembered the night before. _Maybe it's not so easy. Maybe you can't just die and live the life of angels and...and cream cheese._

She rubbed her legs. Even though they were covered by denim, they still felt pretty grimy. _I need a bath._

A wooden bridge carried the road, going over the stream a few steps away. Walking over, she noticed there was just enough room for her under it, if she knelt over a bit. "No soap, of course. Genius." She looked at her arms–more than just a little muddy. "Better than nothing, I guess."

She peeled off her shirt and jeans, put them above her on the bridge, and ducked down under. Once she was in the bridge's shadow and mostly underwater, the cool pinpricks of the water turned into a icy stabs, biting at her from her feet to her shoulders. Shivering, she rubbed herself down, trying to get all of the dirt off. "Oh, God." She wrapped her arms around herself. _C'mon, Summer, just a quick rinse will make you feel better._ Biting her lip, she rubbed her wet hands onto her face, getting rid of the very last remnants of her makeup.

Even if one looked for them, the tiny bits of foundation and mascara were almost invisible in the water. They swirled around Summer for a second before the current whisked them away.


	7. First Interlude

Raindrops

Quicksilvre

Summer's middle name is from "Flying Home," by make it stop jamie. I've seen other middle names used, but this one is my favorite. Also, age is my estimate based on how old Summer the character is–I was shocked to find Rachel Bilson was 23. Shocked!

-)-)-)-)

Usually it took a while for a stone to be put in place, months even. But, Mr. Roberts was nothing if not noted in the community. A few strings pulled in the right places meant the Summer got her hunk of marble in just a few short weeks.

The unveiling was a small ceremony–just a few family and friends. Some had flowers. Not a lot to do, though–look at the stone, ooh and aah at its beauty, pay a few final respects, and leave.

Within a half-hour, Ryan Atwood found himself the last one there. Well, him and the Cohens, who had driven him there. Kirsten had said her goodbyes and was already waiting in her car. Sandy was nearby, trying to find someone else's stone.

It was just Ryan and Summer.

_Summer Marina Roberts_

_04/09/1987 - 03/02/2005_

"_Between us, eternity is a second,_

_light-years are mere inches,_

_and infinity is right at our side."_

Ryan sighed. "Well." He looked at the detail of the stone–it really _was _well done. On either side of the inscription were beautifully carved doves and laurel branches.

"I'm...sorry Seth isn't here. Uh, he is doing a lot better. He's back in school, you know, he's gotten over the worst of it. It's just that...he really got overwhelmed when we were getting ready to go, and...he decided to stay behind. Maybe he'll come tomorrow.

"So...uh...nice tombstone." Ryan sighed. "Okay, not the most intelligent thing to say. I know. It's...hard to say some things, you know."

Ryan struggled to find the right thing to say, wishing Lindsay was with him–she probably had a quote hidden away that would just be perfect. She was good at that sort of thing. He knew that Summer wasn't going anywhere, but...the first time came only once, and it was important thing for him to do more than just stare. "Remember how we met, at that party after the fashion show?" He chuckled. "Man. You changed after that. Once you got all with Seth, there was no going back."

He shifted a bit, uneasily. "Sorry I don't have any flowers. Uh, of course, that doesn't really matter that much now...uh, sorry."

The words were failing. To be sure, there was only so much to say about the two of them in life. Summer was a lot closer to Marissa and Seth than she was to him.

But, Summer had become so, so much more to Ryan after she died. When she died, he got to be the role of nurturer. For both Seth and Marissa.

It was something he had never been asked to do before.

For Seth, he was successful. For Marissa...it was still up in the air. Still, the girls' home would do good for her. Everyone had agreed that some time out of Orange County would be the best thing. She probably needed it for a long time–they shouldn't have stopped Julie from sending her away after the Tijuana incident, no matter her motivations.

"Heh. Remember that? You and Marissa got into those candy-striper uniforms. Good stuff."

He fell silent again. Whether they had done the right thing or not then, it was getting done now. Summer's death forced Marissa to admit that there were problems too complicated for the group. Now she was getting help. All would be well, eventually.

He had helped them–it was no longer just them helping him. They had taken him in, listened to him, gotten him out on his feet. Now, he could help them.

He was finally a full member of the family.

"Uh, listen. Thank you...for helping me...help...them." The words came out confused, one by one. However, as soon as he shut up, Ryan liked how they sounded.

"Yeah. Thanks."

-)-)-)-)

"Do don't think that Seth is being set back by all of this, do you?" Kirsten sat at the counter and looked anxiously at Sandy, across the kitchen. Sunset radiated long lines from the blinds across the room and the two of them.

"Uh...maybe a little." Sandy poured himself a cup of coffee. It tasted terrible, being a half-day old, but gave him the jolt he needed. "The kid will be fine. It's two steps forward and a step back." He sat across from her. "Another day off from school, some talk...just to stabilize him enough."

"Caring."

"I just think it has to run its course. Ryan's taken the front seat with the manly comfort."

"Manly comfort." Kirsten smirked at his choice of words. "I found his dumpling in the trash. When we got back."

"Hmm? Oh. That one."

"Yeah." She looked back at the trash can. "Think it's a good sign?"

"I dunno."

"I wonder if we ought to get a grief counselor for Seth." Kirsten looked back to Sandy. "And don't say...."

"Don't say what? Sounds fine to me."

"It's important."

"It might be pretty helpful."

"It _will_ be _very_ helpful."

Sandy shrugged. "Seth'll listen to Ryan the most, you know. No matter who we bring in, you know how it is. A hundred bucks an hour ain't nothing compared to how they are with each other."

"Yeah." Kirsten gave a weak smile. "That manly comfort of his."

"Exactly. Old-school comfort."

"Old-school?" Kirsten gave a tiny chuckle, before becoming more serious again. "We have to talk to both of them, you know."

"Yeah. After dinner." Sandy started for the phone. "My turn to order?"

"I think so."

"Too early for Chinese again?"

Kirsten nodded. "Let the boy heal first."

"Italian it is."

-)-)-)-)

Marissa rocked herself back and forth on her bed–the bed that she was assigned. Crammed into one corner of her room at the facility, it had one flat, stained pillow and linens so stiff that they chafed her cheeks.

Not that she had done much sleeping the last ten days, since she had arrived. Whenever she tried to close her eyes, the noise of the world became too much. It was the images, mostly–the crash scene, the funeral, the van that drove her south.

That one hurt most of all. Everyone in Newport abandoned her, even Ryan. Didn't they see her go to therapy the last time? Not that she was magically cured or anything; still, they owed it to her. She _deserved_ to stay in Orange County, didn't she?

Of course. It made perfect sense to her. If Summer wouldn't have done it, they shouldn't have, either.

Marissa was sure that somewhere, Julie was laughing and Summer was crying.

The rocked herself slowly on the bed. Soon, she decided. She was brought out a few times a day, to eat mostly, and to get some sunlight. The cafeterias were on the first floor, and her room on the third.

None of the stairwells had any nets to stop anyone who jumped.

_Soon._


	8. Bed of Straw

Raindrops

Quicksilvre

-)-)-)-)

Summer figured it couldn't have been too much longer to her destination; just a mile or so, maybe less. She had already been walking, on and off, for five hours. She started after lunch; the sun was still fairly high in the sky, though a lot lower than it was. After the night before, she didn't relish the idea of camping out again.

She wiped her sweaty forehead and sat herself down on a fallen tree at the side of the road. _Time for a water break._ Summer put down her pack and bent over it, stiffly. The combination of carrying a giant load, with sleeping on the barely-padded ground, were twisting her back into French braids. Shifting position alone was growing painful. Slowly, she bent back up with her water bottle and took a few gulps. The last thing she had done before setting off that afternoon was to refill it, and it paid off. It was the right boost she needed.

Town, or whatever, was just another half-hour or so away. Already Summer was making a list of what she needed to get: toilet paper, soap, toothbrush and toothpaste, at least. Just thinking of the last two made her grimace; she didn't know how long it had been since she had brushed her teeth, but it was long enough to make her mouth taste like a toxic waste dump.

She checked her map again. She saw a small pond marked off on it, two miles from the town...and she passed that a half-hour before. "Tonight. I'll make it tonight, and I'll find...someplace, and sleep this time."

_An inn. That's what I got to find. And coffee, if it's there._

The map had shown more detail since the first day, and now seemed to be complete. The town, from what she could see, was a hub from which four roads joined. Summer was walking up the first one. A second went up into a hilly area that still looked pretty fuzzy. The other two went to the ocean.

_Ah, the ocean. _Summer could still remember the smell of the salty air and the sound of the waves...feeling Cohen cuddled right beside her...

She shook her head. No time for that.

-)-)-)-)

The town had no name. It was just there, existing where the roads met. By dusk, the whole town was shutting down, as stores closed shop and stands packed their goods and went home. Summer nearly had to beg her way into the general store, as its owner seemed rather eager to go home. With a batted eyelash, a bit of begging, and all of her jewelry, she was able to get a few minutes and the supplies she needed.

Finding someplace to sleep, however, was a different deal entirely. It seemed the town wasn't very used to visitors, at least not the ones that stayed overnight. The only inn in town greeted Summer with a curt "We're _full_" when she walked in the door.

"Please?" She looked pleadingly at the woman at the desk, a bitter-grandmother type. "Isn't there anything I could do to–"

"There are no rooms."

"I can clean dishes, or something...." Summer left her voice drift off as she looked over to a room to the side. It was filled wall-to-wall with liquored up men and two or three frightened-looking call girls. She made a mental note to stay clear if she could.

"I says, no rooms!" The woman snapped her fingers, and before Summer could react, one of the drunken men from the next room grabbed her by the back of her shirt, picked her up effortlessly, and tossed her head-first out into the street. Her pack quickly followed.

"Ow! Dammit!" Summer quickly got up to run back to the inn, in order to get a piece of the bastard–nothing. The inn's doors shut faster than lightning. "Ass, open this door now!" She pounded furiously at the door, feeling herself drift toward a rage blackout.

Another drunken man stuck his head out of the window and stared fiercely at her. Summer turned to scream at him–and lost her voice instantly. He was big and dangerous looking, but that was no different than some of the guys back home. It was his _eyes_ that frightened Summer.

Big, yellow, and angry looking. They seemed to suggest murder.

"Uh...sorry...." Summer could hear her voice lose all of its strength. Meekly, she gathered the stuff spilled from her pack, threw everything up onto her back, and left the area–quickly.

-)-)-)-)

It was far too long after sunset to even try to find anything else in town. Without lights in the streets, the town became dark in a way Summer never saw before. A tiny sliver of a moon gave the only light that still existed. She couldn't see her hand in front of her face or her feet on the road.

She shivered–it was getting cool out too. She continued onward, hoping to find someone, _anyone_ who would take her in, but every house was shuttered up tight. Bumping into something, she found some sort of large box in the middle of the road. Summer guessed it was a cart of some sort, and climbed in.

It held no animals, so sharp objects, nothing, it seemed, but her and some hay. She gratefully snuggled in, trying to bury herself part of the way to insulate herself. Within a few minutes, she was able to clumsily unzip her sleeping bag into a blanket and build herself a little nest. It was scratchy and made her eyes water like mad, but much better than the night before.

She closed her eyes, coughed, and tried to get calm enough to sleep. Her forehead stung as the rubbed her head on her temporary bed, leaving notice that the town's hospitality would leave its own special mark.

"It's how it is now. It's how it is now." She clenched her eyes a little tighter, trying not to get upset.

She felt her eyes fill with tears again. "What did I do that was so bad? I didn't kill anyone or send anyone off to some horrible life."

_Be someone._

"Goddamn it, stop that!" Her voice broke out in a sob. "I don't want to be anyone anymore! I want to curl up on a little cloud and see angels and just...sleep. Sleep and rest. I want to wake up when everything works out."

Summer felt herself slowly deteriorate. She tried nestling in to comfort herself, the hay's smell overcame her as the crinkly fibers poked her cheeks. As she laid in the straw, she tried keeping it in, not wanting to attract attention, but she surrendered herself to emotion and broke down into tears, bit by bit.

-)-)-)-)

"Scoundrel!"

Summer awoke with a jolt. The voice sounded both unfriendly and very nearby.

"Begone, girl!" A loud crack filled the air around her with noise, and she felt something powerful smash into her back, ripping through her blanket. "Out! Out!"

"Hey! Ow!" She rolled over on her back, to see the cart's extremely angry owner and a long bullwhip in his hand.

"Leave, wench!" The whip came down again, slapping into her stomach with force.

"Please, I–"

"I shall not tolerate nomads in my property!" With even more force, the cart owner dropped the whip again, this time striking her face with great violence.

Summer screamed, and dove back down into the hay. Trying frantically to burrow back down, she felt two more slaps to her back. She heard the owner rustle through the hay behind her, then felt a strong hand grab her shirt.

"No!" She kicked back, connecting with the man's arm. Her burner clattered against the side of the cart and clicked on. Before the cart owner could regroup for a second shot, acrid smoke began to fill the air and orange tongues of fire licked at the hay around the spilling lighter fluid.

"Argh!"

Without thinking or planning, Summer whipped back up and punched the cart owner square in the jaw. As he stepped back, stunned, she threw smoldering debris in his face, leaped out of the cart, and burst toward safety. Frenzied by the pain and panic, she sprinted past her nemesis and ran out of town, trailing bits of smoking straw behind her the whole way.


	9. Dust in the Wind

Raindrops

Quicksilvre

Sorry for waiting so long to post the next chapter. I was going to wait a little bit, and a little bit turned into almost a week. However, this week I'm off from Tuesday to Sunday, so I'll probably have at least one more update after this by Sunday.

-)-)-)-)

Summer jogged to a stop, panting. She first leaned over, putting her hands down on her knees, then sat down hard and laid down on the road. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying in vain to block all thoughts of what had happened out.

Every muscle in her body was clenched as she tried to keep in the tears, causing her to tremble all over. A cool breeze blew dust around, some of it going into her burns and wounds. She opened her eyes just a crack, enough to see the sky and the palms around her.

It was a beautiful, warm morning, the type that would greet her almost every day back home. She remembered how it would look from the Harbor School Student Union–nice, bright beams of sunlight spilling onto the courtyard; hot cups of coffee; students wandering in every direction; Chino and Cohen on a couch overlooking the pool table....

She curled up tight as the tears streamed down her face, stinging the whip marks. She wiped them from her face, taking bits of dried blood with it, and wiped it on the ground. She ducked her head down, expecting more to come, but nothing else happened.

She was too tired to even cry.

Sniffling, Summer looked down the road. The coast was probably a day's walk away–a day without her map or any of her supplies, abandoned back in the cart. She got up, moving sorely, feeling her shirt flap behind her where it had ripped. A deep breath later, she stretched her legs, took one last look behind her, and started forward, as fatigue gnawed at her.

_God, how long was I running? Half an hour? Probably, it's pretty light out now...probably three, four miles out of town, at least. Yeah, you'll make it there by tonight. Get to the ocean and...do something. _Summer winced as the wind blew dust into her cuts. _Better than going back _there_, I guess. Maybe you can get a coconut or something, and maybe they'll be other people there._

More dust blew into her, making her grit her teeth. "Keep going. You'll survive."

-)-)-)-)

_Dear friends,_ Marissa started her letter.

_I've been here in the home for maybe two, maybe three weeks. I know, everyone here really wants to help, but it's not doing anything for me. I know I'll get better, but the only thing I'll get better for is to go back to the house with Mom and Caleb, and that's not the future that I want._

_I don't want any future anymore. I see nothing but blackness when I look to it anyway; it won't make any difference._

_Tell Daddy I'm sorry. I really am, to him, but there is no point for us to be together, even across a phone line over the ocean. Tell Caitlin sorry, too, and sorry about China._

_Tell Ryan I love him. Tell him sorry, too–sorry for all the drama. I know between drinking and Oliver and everything else, I've been hardly better than a bitch to him, so...Ryan, I'm really really sorry over all that. Tell him, Daddy too, that I really want to meet them both in the hereafter, if that's at all possible._

_It probably isn't. I'm going to hell, probably. Even if I wasn't going to before, I will be now–and both of them will go to heaven. I've gotten over it. Maybe you two can visit? That would make it all worth it._

_Sincerely, _

_Marissa Cooper_

-)-)-)-)

The beach was beautiful. Summer had always loved the ocean, and the beaches back home, but they were nothing like those that laid before her.

There were no stands, no towels, no beach balls, no sunbathers, and no litter. The waves washed ashore, massaging fine, pure, almost-white sand into neat lines. It was more beautiful than beautiful. It was perfect, like a present–it was as if it had been created just for her, that very day.

She went up to the waterline and took off her shoes. Stepping into the water, she felt the cool feeling jolt right through her, a quick shock to her whole system–but pleasant, like a nice double latte. If the water under the bridge was a bunch of knifes stabbing into her, the ocean was the other side of the pillow: nice and refreshing.

She walked along the water for a while, staying in ankle-deep water. As nice as it felt on her feet, Summer didn't want to get salt water into her back or on her face. Besides, it was good for reflection. Bit by bit, she had pieced together everything that had happened, from the crash to the flight to the meeting with Keyne to her journey.

Pain, then beauty and amazement, then more pain, then more beauty, then more pain. Half of her time was in heaven, and half was in hell–as far as she could tell.

She waded back onto the shore and walked away from the water. Summer was headed toward a grove of palms, hoping to find a coconut that had already been broken open, but no luck: there were plenty, but the only ones there were either spoiled and ripe with flies, or were unbroken and unyielding. After struggling for a few minutes trying to break a few on some rocks, she gave up on the idea of eating for that day. She decided that it would be better to conserve energy and look for others later.

Summer laid out on the beach, under the trees. The sand beneath her yielded under her easily, forming a little bed, and didn't scratch at her wounds. The rumbles of her empty stomach kept Summer up for a little while, but as the sun began to grow lower in the sky, the heat was enough to lull her into a trance. As the sky grew orange and as the tide slowly moved in, her eyelids grew too heavy to hold up, and she slowly drifted off to a peaceful sleep.


	10. Sorry

Raindrops

Quicksilvre

-)-)-)-)

_Summer lifted her head, hearing something far out on the water. "Huh?" She lifted herself up, forgetting how hurt she was, and looked to the ocean. Out in the distance, she saw something headed toward shore._

_She got up and jogged to the waterline. Summer knew that it was probably better to rest, but she wanted, _needed _to see who was coming–besides, she felt a lot better than the night before. It was hard to see in the darkness, but the full moon was just enough to light up a tiny rowboat, its sails puffed out in a swift wind._

"_Oh...my...God." She ran out into the water, splashing through the waves. The sailboat's captain was becoming familiar. Summer would have recognized his thin frame and puffy haircut anywhere._

"_Cohen!" Summer was already waist deep and was swimming as much as she was running. "Seth!"_

"_Summer!" The _Summer Breeze_'s sails dropped, and Seth coasted to a stop next to her. "I've been looking...I've been looking everywhere for you, and...and..."_

"_Seth, you don't have to say a thing." Summer climbed on and crawled on the slick deck to her boyfriend. Grabbing his shirt, she pulled him in as hard as she could and eagerly pushed her lips upon his._

-)-)-)-)

Summer tried to lift her head up from the sand–and dropped it back down fitfully. After a full night's sleep, the ache from her whipping had set into every muscle in her body, causing her to contort in pain. Both her back and her stomach felt like they were imploding, and her burns stung without mercy. With a groan, she lifted herself up carefully and sat against a palm tree, trying to stay off all her injuries. She lifted her shirt and checked her abdomen; it was cut deeply, and a colorful bruise formed a complete ring around the wound.

"Ow...ahhh..." She dropped her shirt again and scrunched herself sideways against the trees. She wanted badly to go back to the dream, back out of reality, but the pain prevented her from relaxing, much less snoozing. Worse, her stomach burned fiercely from hunger, and her mouth felt like it was full of gravel. Summer knew that she would have to find food and fresh water, soon. She wasn't sure if she could die again, or what would happen if she did, but she decided it wasn't something she should find out the hard way.

Ignoring her pain as well as she could, Summer lifted herself up and walked slowly toward the ocean. Given how unsuccessful she was in opening a coconut, she was doubtful she could catch a fish, especially without a rod or a net. For a second she started to turn back, but a powerful hunger pang took her, and Summer reluctantly kept trudging forward. The water lever had risen from the tide, and she was able to make it to the water without a major problem. Being in the water itself was different–by the time she waded out far enough for the water to reach above her waist, salt water flooded into the whip marks, causing her to shriek in unexpectedly severe pain. After stepping back a few steps, she bent down carefully as far as she could, hoping a fish would swim by close enough so that she could grab it.

No luck. There was hardly anything nearby in the water, and the fish that were there were not only tiny, but just out of her reach. Just as she bent down to approach one, the surf would lick her burns, and she would have to withdraw in pain.

Five times the fish teased Summer, and five times the pain kept her back. As more minnows darted by just beyond her fingertips, and as the sun began to bake her aching back, something inside began to slip away. One fish came close enough for her to just brush it with her fingertips, but it immediately rocketed away when she made contact. Summer's stomach was too hungry for her to let it just get away. As it tried to escape, Summer immediately dived after it, splashing futilely in the surf.

For a second she was able to see something in front of her in the water, but all at once, ocean brine invaded her wounds, forcing her back above the surface. She stumbled out of the water, her body full of fire, and dived back onto the sand. Her eyes were blinded, and the beach and water seemed to disappear, leaving her surrounded by nothing but mind-numbing pain.

Summer twitched wildly on the beach, remembering the time when the ocean was warm and inviting. Images of Seth and the _Summer Breeze_ swirling around her. Now, it seemed, the water was pure lava, dissolving her skin.

The minnows swam back up to the waterline again. They played on, forgetting anything had happened.

-)-)-)-)

When she woke up, the first thing Summer remembered was the pain. It was still there–but the stabbing feeling had been turned back into a dull ache all over. The heavy smell of ointment filled her nostrils. Realizing how wrapped up she was, she lifted her blanket and looked at her body. She was wrapped in bandages from bust to waist, and her arms and legs were similarly covered. Mummies had fewer wrappings.

"OwwwwwWWWW!" Summer's moan ended in a sort of whiny scream. Trying to roll over with her eyes clenched back shut, she suddenly felt herself at the very edge of the bed, and she went back to her old position. Her bed at home, the one she was used to, was twin sized. The bed she found herself in wasn't even single-child size.

Raising her eyes tentatively, she looked at her surroundings. The room was plain and incredibly tiny, with bare wood walls all around. It had just two pieces of furniture: the bed, which took up almost all of the space, and a tiny side table. There were two doors, one in front of her and one beside her. The one beside her went into some sort of hallway, and the other opened into a room just like hers.

Hearing something in that next room, Summer leaned over a bit and lifted her head up a bit from the bed. As humming began to float in, Summer slowly leaned farther and farther over, dangling over the side, trying to see who it was. She planted an arm on the floor, holding herself up.

The person in the next room moved into view. He was thin, and had dark, puffy hair.

"Oh my God, Seth." Summer's arm grew weak and collapsed under her, sending her into a sprawl on the hard floor. Heavy footsteps ran up to her.

"You OK?"

"Seth, I..." She looked up at him. His skin was tanned throughly, and his unfamiliar eyes were shaped into neat diamonds.

They looked at each other for a few seconds. "Uh...who's Seth?"

Summer kept looking at the stranger for a few seconds, and melted down right there on the floor. Tears flooded out of her eyes in a waterfall, and her muscles became far too weak to hold herself up even to the slightest degree. In a moment, Summer was a flat, sobbing mass at the foot of the bed.

"Oh, jeez...please don't cry...uh, sorry..." Not used to comforting, the stranger awkwardly tried to soothe Summer, lifted her up back onto the bed. "Here, just lie down. Rest up."

Summer tried to give an explanation, not waiting to make a fool of herself, but she was too overcome to say anything. Even after taking a few deep breaths and gulping down a sob, she could manage only a couple of words.

"I...I'm sorry."


	11. The Tongau Flats

Raindrops

Quicksilvre

I would like to thank the three or four of you who have stopped (often every chapter) to review the story. I'm glad you guys are leaving comments. And, if you're reading and not reviewing–why not? It's easy and if something is amiss to you, it's a way to clear the air.

And, on with Chapter 11:

-)-)-)-)

His name, as Summer learned the next day, was Sonn. He had found her that afternoon, twitching and unconscious in the sand, and he half-dragged, half-carried her to safety.

Summer's room was in an inn by the water called Tongau Flats. Sonn was a regular there, half guest and half _de facto_ right-hand man to the owner. Summer's trip was like the proverbial walk in the park compared to his–his journey through death was on a raft over the water, and he had twice found himself in the path of an angry shark. The first time, he got away, but the second one left an impressive scar circling around his right arm, where it had nearly been bitten off. A streak of good fortune saw him float to the coast in front of the inn, where guests found him.

The Flats had about twenty rooms, all of them tiny, mostly filled with vagrants and journeymen looking for a night's sleep and a cheap dinner. Sonn had been planning to heal, rebuild his boat, and head off–staying maybe two weeks, three tops.

Eight months later, he was still too comfortable to leave.

-)-)-)-)

He knocked on her door, a tray in one hand. "Lunchtime. You decent?"

"Come on in."

Sonn slid the door open and shuffled in–carefully; it was a tight squeeze between the wall and the bed, and he didn't want to spill anything on her. "Plantains and soup."

"Mmm, yum." It had already been four days since she found herself at the inn, and she had grown nicely into her new world.

"I'm bringing mine in too, no point for you to eat alone."

"Oh. All right." She took the tray from him. "That's not necessary, you know. I mean, if you're busy."

"Nope, nothing to do until later."

"Okay." Summer was grateful for attention. When she ran out of town, she left everything behind except for the clothes on her back. She needed the charity. Besides, it was good to be around someone her own age.

A moment later, Sonn was there with his own. He sat down on the bed next to her. "You doing better? I saw you out in the hall, walking."

"Yeah...I'm stiff and sore, but I'm getting better. I was just chasing away everyone peeking in."

"It's not every day someone comes in with the flourish you did. I mean, I was carrying you in, and everything stopped. Women were crying, all the men were circled around, looking at you...it was wild."

"I probably should have gotten stitches." Summer picked at her stomach. Scar tissue stretched over her injury, and while it looked better than it did, it wasn't pretty.

"Too late now, you're scarred over and the doctor moved on anyway."

"Yeah. It's healing, though."

"I noticed. Your face looks a lot better already." He looked at her. "You're good looking."

She blushed. "Thanks."

"No, I mean it." Sonn bit into a plantain slice. He smiled at her, and then said. "Actually, I'm here to talk to you."

"Oh." Summer felt a little disappointment within her. Sonn was no Seth, but he was a good sub. Especially the hair. Nice and thick and black and...

"The owner has been keeping an eye on you over the last few days, uh, though me actually, and, uh, now that you're starting to move around, he really want to talk to you. This afternoon."

-)-)-)-)

"It's right around this corner."

"Great." Summer grunted when she moved her back a little too much. "When you don't want to go, it seems a lot longer."

"Worried?"

"Uh, yeah?"

"It's nothing, I'm sure."

"Has he does this before to any other guest?"

"Uh, I've only been here for–"

"Yeah, but has he?"

"No. No one had to be dragged in either, so...that's different, too."

"Yeah, ow...don't remind me." She winced and leaned over suddenly.

"Need help?"

"No, you've done...too much. And it's only a few more steps."

"I've been there before. It's what I should do." He opened the door of the owner's office for her. "Here you are."

"Thanks." Summer shuffled in, too stiff to move her feet too far off the ground.

The owner of the inn was a very large Samoan man, about forty years old by Summer's guess. He wore glasses, and plain tan work clothes. "Hey! How are you doing?" He spoke in a reasonably friendly tone. Sticking his hand out for her to shake, he continued, "My name is Jai. I hope that my inn has been treating you well. Sit down, please."

"Oh, uh, yeah." She took his hand, then carefully lowered herself onto the stool opposite his.

"Doing well with guests?"

"Mostly. Sonn has been taking care of me."

"Yeah, I knew. I saw him squirreling away this and that for you. You should have seen him when you first came in." Jai put two chubby hands to his head, and spoke in an exaggerated manner. _"OH, the girl needs food! OH, the girl needs bandages. OH, the girl needs..._whatever. You sounded like a needy girl. But then I saw you and you looked alright."

"Heh. Yeah, I'm better." Summer shifted in her seat. "What did you want to talk about, exactly?"

"Ah, yes. Well." Jai became slightly more serious–not enormously so, but enough to notice the difference. "I'm running a business here."

"Oh, God. Yeah. Uh...I lost everything that I had back in town. See, I slept in this cart, and–"

"Yeah, I know how they are in town. It's one of the things they have here, you know? To test people."

"Yeah, and I got, like, nothing."

"That's been noted."

There was a long pause. "Do you need an extra worker? Is that what it's about?"

"Yeah, I could use on more."

"Is there any other way? I mean, couldn't I..." Summer left her voice drift off.

"We don't need you right away. Rest up and recover."

"Are you forcing me to?"

"No, you can leave...I'm greatly compelling you to." Jai took out a notepad. "So, tell me...Summer, right? Yes, it took me the _longest _to remember...so Summer, what are you good at?"

Another long pause. _Oh, yeah, _she thought. _Casino dealer is going to sound _sooo _impressive._

"Well, all right, you're a school kid really...what are you interested in doing?"

Silence. Summer looked at the floor. _Buddy, I can't hammer a nail or screw in a light bulb. Never been a secretary. I _didn't_ drive to save my life. I can't cook or even make coffee without it coming out crappy._

After waiting a few more seconds, Jai cleared his throat. He tossed the notepad away. "Okay! Well, we'll find something for you. Next week, we'll get some clothes for you. You need some new stuff."

"You don't have to bother."

"Sure we do." He shifted. "I think that's it."

"Great." Summer hastily rose from her chair.

"Do you need help?"

"No, I'm good." She shuffled out the door as quickly as she could, not wanting to look back. She was still wobbly on her feet and Sonn was nearby, down the hall from the office, but Summer didn't want to bother him. She figured he had something to do.

Besides, she didn't want anyone to see the tears in her eyes.


	12. Branch and Hatchet

Raindrops

Quicksilvre

Sorry it's taken so long to get the next chapter up. Between school and my health and a distressing drop in quality in _The O.C._, everything has been crazy. But, here is the next part.

-)-)-)-)

The sun wasn't even all the way up the horizon, but it was warm and dreadfully humid around the Tongau. It was going to be a hellishly hot day, the kind where Summer used to spend huddled inside, either talking on the phone or walking the mall. There would be a fruity drink in her hand, or a cellphone.

Today, she had a hatchet and a job.

A few days after her meeting with Jai, she improved vastly, enough to move around and do some housework–washing some dishes here, making some lemonade for guests there. Without a lot of skill in anything except candy-striping and card dealing, the inn's menial work was hers.

Two weeks before, she would have pouted and bitched about broken nails. At this point, she was glad to do anything. She hated where she was–she hated being so..._worthless_. Now she was paid in clothes, shelter, and food, all of it earned. Better, it got her mind off of Orange County.

She wondered if anyone remembered her. She ran down a list–Dad, Marissa, Seth, the Cohens, Chino, maybe Lindsay. Maybe. Her step-mom probably couldn't care less. Holly was probably partying somewhere. Everyone else...

"Screw them," she said to herself. She was outside, walking from the inn. The Tongau had a small grove a short walk from the building, where lemons, plantains, oranges, bananas, and coconuts all grew next to each other in a crazy maze. There was enough there to grow a good amount of food, enough to trade for other supplies, but Jai had more land nearby and wanted to clear it to expand.

And there was only one way to do that.

Winding through the planted land, Summer grabbed a clean-looking orange from the ground and fed herself. She'd need it; Jai had sent her out to both knock over trees and bring back firewood.

"Yeah, right." Stepping carefully over twisted roots, she met her foes. They were a foot thick, five times her height, and were loaded with wild coconuts. "No...way. You are kidding. Ha ha, Jai." She looked at her axe, gripped it tightly in her gloved hands, picked a target, and took a swing.

It went in a half an inch. Trying to pull back, Summer found it stick fast in the wood. She grit her teeth, dug in her feet–nothing. She jumped up and put her feet on the tree, pulling back with all her might, before it popped out and struck her right in the chest.

Dull side first. "Shit!" She gingerly picked up the hatchet and threw it away from her. Lying on the ground for a second, she stared up at her opponent. A ray of morning sunshine pushed threw its leaves. It was a perfectly beautiful, if hot, day to battle nature.

Weary for a moment, Summer furrowed her brow. Sitting up and retrieving her weapon, she said to herself, "You're going to be running away anytime soon." She got ready to swing again. "Let's see you try that again."

_Thock_. The second hit was much better than the first, cutting out a tiny wedge from the side of the tree. The hatchet came back in Summer's hand. _Thock_. The next cut deepened the cut. _Thock_. This one made it wider, knocking off a sliver of wood the size of a remote control.

Summer stopped for a second. Two minutes and one almost gruesome injury later, there was progress. She adjusted her grip, moved a little bit to the side, and started widening the slice.

-)-)-)-)

_Thock. Thock. Thock. Thock._

Most of the tree was gone. Summer was surrounded by sharp slices of wood, finishing up while trying to figure out how to bring it down. She had cut into the tree evenly, in order to leave that decision last.

_Thock. Thock._

The entire weight of the palm was balanced on a spindle of wood. After one final swing, the tree left off a series of sharp cracking sounds that left Summer skittering for safety. As soon as she decided that the tree was going to stay standing, she carefully walked up to it, put her foot up on it above the cut, and pushed with all her weight.

The first few pushes did nothing, but in a minute, the tree was visibly shaking back and forth. She took the hatchet one last time, put in one last tiny cut, and pushed again. The tree swung one last time, then never came back up. It collapsed with an incredible clamor, its branches ripped away as they caught on neighboring palm, and landed hard enough to make the ground shake.

For a second Summer stood there, looking at the fallen log and the spindle of wood it was once attached to. Then, she giggled and hopped around, clapping her hands.

Summer Roberts had knocked over an entire tree. It had taken from sun-up to lunchtime, but it had only taken her to made a palm tree into firewood. She skipped to where the canopy was, took her hatchet, chopped off the very top, and tore toward the Tongau, tree-tip in one hand, axe in the other.

She ran across the beach, climbed up the stairs, and headed for Jai's office, then decided to wash up quick in the bathroom, taking everything with her. She put everything down in the tub and crossed the room to the sink, passing by the mirror en route.

Her reflection caught the corner of her eye. At first, she blanched–her tank top was soaked in sweat, her face was dusted with dirt, and her hair was in wild tangles. For a second she backed away to the sink, but she turned back. Picking the hatchet and treetop back up, she began to admire herself. Summer posed for no one, positioning herself as she saw fit, until she saw something she liked–looking straight into the glass, the axe and tree-tip crossed over her chest, blocking her face slightly.

A smirk crossed her lips. _This is the new Summer_, she thought to herself. _The old Summer is dead and gone. Here on in, I am a fighter._

-)-)-)-)

Marissa hugged her legs close to her chest and buried her face into her knees, trying to get away from the pain–though she knew it was impossible. The fires around her would burn forever, and there was no water to put it out. She curled up, then flopped back, lying on the rocket-hot stone ground. She didn't even try to move to a more comfortable position.


	13. Patience

Raindrops

Quicksilvre

I don't own The O.C. I wish I did; the Rebecca storyline is crappy and pointless.

-)-)-)-)

Summer learned.

She learned how to hold the hatchet properly, in order to get the most force out of each swing. Given how little she was, it was a huge help. Within a few weeks she was able to knock over a few trees a day, with Jai's old truck pulling them away onto the beach.

She learned how to strip the branches off of a fallen trunk for kindling, and the best way to break up a log for firewood.

She learned how to ignore a broken fingernail.

She learned how to burn a tree trunk, after she learned how to make a fire out of two sticks. Then, she learned how to take a pick to break the charcoal up, and how to dig up the rest of it, leaving a clean spot of land.

She learned how to plant a tree. Unlike everything else, that one had no immediate reward. But the grove had plenty of young trees, showing well enough Summer's would be in ten years.

Summer learned how to chop a young orange tree in half, then carefully join on the branch of a seedless orange tree to the end and seal everything up, until the two halves grew together. The Tongau was supposed to be the only place in miles to have seedless oranges, and it was a crucial source of cash. And with those oranges, she learned how to trade. She was already good at talking; within a couple of months, she was as shrewd as a politician with five times the charm.

She learned how to plan her work. Her body screamed when she cut down trees every day; so one day would be for clearing land, and the next would be for planting, burning, and trading, with maybe some fruit-picking on the side.

She learned how to bend trees into patterns. Parts of the grove were ornamental as well as useful; several orange trees in two rows had been curved into each other until their branches interlocked into a roof. Others were pinched into arches or spirals. Jai even had a tree which was bent into a giant chair–his favorite place to celebrate a day of work with a beer.

She even learned how to hammer a nail.

Such was her life. Every day it would be her, Jai, Sonn, and whatever guests the Tongau had. All the light chores were reserved for the guests to barter, so Summer spent her days outside, shaping nature in her tiny corner of the afterlife.

Nature shaped Summer as well. Her shoulders were bathed in sun, and quickly reddened and peeled away. The skin left behind was bronzed and strong. Her arms strengthened from days of swinging and pushing, until one could see small but distinct biceps. Her back, her legs, her hands–everything shrieked with agony at first, but recovered stronger than ever.

As the weeks and months passed by, and as lip gloss and Jimmy Choo became less important than chatting down a customer or avoiding coconuts when a tree toppled, the Summer Roberts of Orange County faded away. In her place was a girl simply named Summer. Superficially they looked alike, if the second Summer looked a little wilder. No parties–just gatherings with friends. No fashion–just a couple of nice outfits for when she hawked fruit, and work clothes. No shoes, save her one pair of sneakers. No booze–well, almost no booze. Much less booze, to be sure.

The chaos and nameless despair slowly drained out of her, leaving only serenity.

-)-)-)-)

Jai and Summer were together one evening, by the grove of bent oranges. It was winter, but it wasn't at all cold–but it was cool; all of the fruit was green and the sand of the beach was hard. But the sky...it was around sunset, and the color and brightness had been just as it had been when Summer first came. The Tongau, without the income from the groves, was making due from the last year's crop and the dues they could collect from guests. It was a little more difficult than summer, but pleasant enough.

Jai was sipping a cold one, on his chair. Summer was doing the same, perched up where the branches folded into each other. Over time, the maze of wood had melted into a latticework that held her up nicely.

"Jai," she asked, "how did you get that tree to bend the way it did?" Summer had already started on her own project: a lemon and a lime tree, twisted together and then pushed apart until they were horizontal. The idea was to get a mass close to the ground, half lemon, half lime. It wasn't easy; after the whole summer, there was little progress.

Jai smiled at her question. "Slowly."

"I bet. But how?"

"A secret. I can't give them all away. I gotta legacy to protect."

"Legacy my ass." Summer chuckled.

"Don't laugh! I get to point at the thing whenever a guest or whoever comes along, and say, "See that? That took twelve years to get to that shape, and a whole lotta pruning to keep it that way. Now, if you stiff me, imagine how long I'll chase you down!" It was Jai's turn to laugh.

"That took you twelve years?"

"Sure did."

"How...long have you spent here?"

"On the Tongau? Oh...it must be seventeen, eighteen years now. Took control about four years after I came, from the old owner–he took the big step up. Floating with angels now, I guess. So...yeah, it's been fourteen years since then. Eighteen years."

"Wow." Summer looked out at the sunset.

"It's not bad. Never lonely." Another chuckle. "And I have my regulars. You coming in was a big help; ever since Wolfie left last winter Sonn and I would have to take care of all of this ourselves. You made things a whole lot easier."

"Who?"

"Wolfie. Came a few years ago, 'round the same time as Sonn. All banged up, like Sonn–like you. From...Germany, I think. He hung around and then he made his big exit, too."

"Huh." Summer looked down at Jai. "He took three years and you've needed eighteen?"

"Not too uncommon. I see folks here all the time, new to the afterlife, spend a couple months here and get called on."

"And not you?"

Jai smacked his lips. "Uh, no." He paused for a moment, then suddenly went on: "Back on Earth–this was, you know, early '80 or so–I was a fisherman. And I had my boat, my crew, everything."

"Loved the sea?"

"Loved the money. Some of the real cash fish were coming in, and...sent everything out with a storm brewing. I drove them in close, thinking we could back off if we had to. Plus we had sonar, and we could just _see_ this _massive_ school."

"And you died."

"Me and ten others."

"Oh, Jai."

"It's all right." He paused for a second. "One by one I met up with all of them and one by one they forgave me. After some seasoning, of course...I had some love for the green still up here, but a year in the grove changed that."

"Regrets?"

"Sometimes. But, there's no going back now." Jai got up to stretch. "All you can do is the best you can here. If you become a good person, you get rewarded."

"But you're a great guy, Jai–"

"Well, thank you, _mad_aam." Jai's mispronunciation made Summer giggle.

"Seriously, Jai, you like a hard life scraping by."

"It's happy."

"You could be happy and be more comfortable, too."

"Yeah." Jai sat back down. The tree-chair shook a little bit, then settled under his weight. "I'm patient. Look at this chair. Fourteen years, Summer. I knew I'd get a reward, and I did. I _know_ I'll get rewarded for hard work. I _know_ it'll be great. I can wait. You and Sonn do a great job, keeping me company."

"And you and Sonn keep me company." Summer looked back over at the sky. She could feel her heart settle somehow, almost as if it was snuggling into her body. She could feel it being held up, imbued with strength from two others. Whenever a tear began to well in her eye, she let it be. The wind, though, kept any of them from crossing her face.

-)-)-)-)


	14. Black Velvet

Raindrops

Quicksilvre

)-)-)-)

"Now is a great time for shark." Summer was now in the water, next to Sonn. Sonn had all the duties for catching fish for the Tongau, for both the dinner plate and the market, and he wasn't about to relinquish his monopoly. He did, however, need a helping hand to catch the big ones. The sun had just risen, and the ocean was numbingly cold, especially for Summer, who had nothing for the water but the light swimsuit Jai had gotten for her when she first came.

"Sonn, it's freezing."

"So what?"

"Are you sure–"

"Yes, I am. Be patient." Sonn slowly stalked though the water, looking intently in front of him. Summer followed, her spear and his in hand, pretending to go along. In reality, she was thinking how much warmer his wetsuit looked. "Don't worry. The sun will be up soon and you'll warm up quick. Trust me."

They waded out to a block of coral that stuck up from the water, to within a few inches of the water's surface. "Careful, the rocks are sharp."

"All right." A breeze came from over the land, chilling Summer's damp skin. "Aaaaaahhh..." She settled into the water as far as she could, but she could only go down so far before the coral bit at her legs.

"Careful!" Sonn chastised, taking his spear and going another few feet away along. "C'm'ere." He gestured her over. "Look down. See that gap?" In front of him, the coral broke into a ring, about twelve feet or so across. "There are all sorts of bottom-feeders down there. The sharks swim in wherever the coral is broken and snack away. I've seen them go for two, three hours without a care in the world. See, look? There's a ray there right now."

Summer looked down and squinted. A black sheet slithered beneath them, sliding slowly on the bottom. Jai nodded his head down. "Want to try for it?"

"Wha–me?"

"I've seen you swim. You could get it. It's twelve feet down, maybe ten."

"No-o-o. I wouldn't...I..." It seemed like too much, sticking a sharp object into a living thing. She feigned a lack of confidence. "You should. You do this every day, almost."

"It's not hard. Go along the ring to the far end, and approach from that side. To make sure it doesn't get away, you know. And if it does...that's all right too, we're really after the big guys."

"Okay..." Tentatively, Summer crept along the perimeter of the reef until she was opposite Sonn. Slowly, she slid off her step and into the water; by the time she was up to her neck, she took a gulp of air and dove.

She approached the ray slowly and from behind. It didn't seem to notice her; it went along its way, slowly filtering food. By the time Summer was in striking distance, the ray had only lazily swum a few yards. She felt a pang of conscience–and a bit of admiration. The ray was beautiful, a two foot disc of perfect-looking black velvet. Summer lowered her spear, and reached out her free hand to touch it.

She had just gotten a few fingertips on it when she was met with a faceful of bubbles, followed by a sting in the hand that had touched it. The ray thrashed first away from her, then, finding its escape route blocked, over it, dropping down and attacking her back as it darted by.

Summer let go of her air in surprise. Reminded suddenly of her whipping back in town, she swung wildly at the creature with both hands, moving her spear in crazy patterns. Without any way to stay down there any longer, she pushed off the bottom hard and shot upward. The second she broke the surface, Summer drew in a desperate breath.

Sonn was directly in front of her, grinning. "Stung, huh?" He looked over to her spear. "Hey. Good job."

Summer had forgotten she was holding anything at all, but as soon as Sonn mentioned it, she noticed her spear felt heavier than it had been before. Looking over, she found, to her horror, the ray, bloody and limp. Water rolling off its body sparked in the early-morning light before turning red and dripping back into the ocean.

"I...uh..." Summer could smell the light scent of the ray's blood.

"Here. Let me take that." Recognizing her uneasiness, Sonn took her spear. "I'll run this back to the inn. You keep an eye out."

"Great." Summer was eager to let go of the thing, and as soon as Sonn began to swim back to shore, she hopped onto the coral, holding her nose–trying to get the smell of blood out.

For a moment, her head swirled, but the smell of brine from the ocean was powerful enough to erase anything quickly. In a couple of minutes, the only thing left that suggested anything had happened was a tiny stain on Summer's swimsuit, which she picked at, reflectively. The image of the dead ray began to float out of her mind.

It was then, when she was looking down at her suit, that she first saw the shark.

It was a torpedo-shaped mass of gray, lazily swinging its tail back and forth, picking off the smaller fishes. Summer snapped back, hoping to see Sonn behind her...and her friend was approaching, swimming with the now-clean spear sticking out of the water.

"Sonn!" She gestured over. "A big one!"

"What–really?" He quickened his pace. "How big?"

"Three feet, I think."

"Whoa!" Sonn climbed onto the coral and peered down. "Oh, no, that thing could be four, maybe five feet. The blood from the ray must have attracted it in." He nodded his head to the side. "I'll go to the back and cut off the escape route. You dive from the side. Try to poke an eye or something; that'll confuse it."

"What? I'll attack me!"

Sonn was already moving into position. "No. When it can't escape, that'll when it'll get pissed."

Summer looked around for a second, trying to think of something to say to get her out of the situation. After a moment, though, she recognized it wasn't going to happen. Gingerly, she walked to where Sonn had indicated, and looked down at her target. Sonn was already underwater, stalking toward the shark slowly.

It looked like it couldn't be more than a few feet underwater–certainly, not so deep that she couldn't dive for it. Taking as good of a grip as she could, she waited until the shark moseyed on to her corner of the pool and, taking in as much energy as she could, plunged in, spear first.

Almost immediately, she felt her spear sink deeply into something, followed by a burst of red in front of her. For a second, all she could see was the few inches in front of her, her vision clouded by the beast's blood. Then, out of the blue, she saw the shark's huge tail, just before taking a powerful blow to the face. The hit blinded her; she tried to wave her hands around and give the shark a good punch herself, but the momentum the shark gave her was too much. She felt the back of her head plow into something sharp and spiny, and then, all turned black.

)-)-)-)

Summer could feel the spines all around her–all around her back, at least, and her legs, and–ow, her head. She tried to open her eyes, but whenever they opened by more than a crack, her eyes would lose focus and her head would pound with fury. Closing her eyes back up cured the first problem, but the second lingered.

"Summer! Summer!"

"Wuh...wud?"

"You okay?" It was Sonn's voice."

"Dib we ged the shaa-shaa..." The words weren't forming right.

"Yeah. But don't worry about that hon, we need to look after you first." Sonn carefully lifted her head from the shallow water of the coral bank. "You okay? When I saw you at the bottom, I though you were done." He looked at her face. "Probably, just a concussion."

"I'm gud." After a few more blinks, her eyes focused better. She was able to see the carcass of the shark floating next to her, on the outside of the bank. "Somn?"

"Yeah?"

"Gud...good job." Summer coughed. She saw blood streaming down from her face. "Ohhh...oh God..."

"Don't worry, we can patch you up. Think you could hold on to the shark?"

Summer half-slid and half-fell over to the shark. "It's...it's rough."

"Yeah. Hold on, I'm going to tow the two of you back to the inn, okay?"

"Inn?"

"Inn. Tongau Inn. Home."

The last word floated around in her mind. It seemed to work. "Okay," she said, dazed.

)-)-)-)

Seth exited the plane, slowly. Behind him, he dragged a rolling suitcase, and over one shoulder, he had slung a sweatshirt, with "Pitt" blazed across the chest in script print. Everyone had agreed that going east for college would be good for him. Still, deep down, the last thing he wanted to do was see...her.

It was too painful. Well, for more than one reason–not least of which, when she had gone east the year before, he had made Ryan tear off to the airport in order for him to make a drunken fool of himself. But that wasn't it.

Anna simply made Seth think of Summer. It made him think of the Thanksgiving with her in his room–and Summer in the pool house. It made him think of the Cotillion, when they first met–and where Seth drooled over Summer.

It made him think that Anna was a replacement Summer. Which was hideously unfair to both of them, and jerky of him. And painful to him.

He slowed his step. The walk from the plane to the gate seemed to be fifty miles long, but he knew it had to end sometime. When it did, his line of view was magnetically drawn to her. She was just like she was the last time he saw her in Orange County–short, light blond hair, impish smile, big eyes.

She smiled and waved, weakly. She went right up to him. "Ohhhhhhhh, Seth...I'm so, so sorry about all that's happened." Anna wrapped her arms around Seth.

He eagerly accepted the hug. Seth wrapped his own arms around her–more strongly than she expected, but not unpleasantly so. He buried his face into her neck. He tried to speak, but the words caught. The only thing that would make it out was, "Oh, Anna..."


	15. Black Pool

Raindrops

Quicksilvre

Big ups to everyone who's reviewed; it is much appreciated. Sorry for waiting so long between updates, things have been crazy recently.

)-)-)-)

Summer chopped the last bunch of plantains from the tree, put them into her basket, and started her walk back. Jai was being kind to her by asking her to do nothing but picking for a few weeks–no chopping or digging. A bunch of fairly burly gentlemen had come through in the last couple of nights, and Jai got plenty of work from them. In fact, in the next few days, he planned to put some new saplings in the newly cleared earth.

The walk from the grove to the inn was short and easy–much easier, to be sure, than it had been when she first arrived. Summer undoubtedly had grown stronger during the months there, and her whole body was growing ever more cut.

Summer burst in through the front door. "Hello? Jai? Sonn? Got some stuff here for lunch–oh, hi, there..." Summer spotted Jai, standing next to a gentleman she had never seen before. She let her voice trail off.

The gentleman was uniformed, wearing the same thing as the cloud pilot she met when she first died.

"Uh, hello." She guessed he wasn't going to check in.

"Miss Summer Roberts, formerly of Newport Beach, California?"

"Yes?" The _formerly_ part made her blink.

"Do you know a Marissa Cooper, also formerly of Newport?"

"Yes...oh my god, 'formerly'? Is Coop..."

"Please come with me."

)-)-)-)

"Coop! Coop!"

It was as hot as hell.

Correction...it was hell. Or, Summer guessed it was–she figured it had to be. There were puddling pools of lava all around, and even the dry spots were elastic from the heat. The air was suffocating, full of sulfur and heavy with choking mist. One could only see a few feet ahead, as the whole place was hardly lit at all. Even the flames around her were black.

"Coop! Cooper! Marissa!" Summer had been brought down by the messenger, just for a visit–according to regulations. Everyone got one last visit as their punishment began, and then, that was it. No one else would see them until their incarceration ended. If it ended.

"Coop!" Summer stepped a little too close to a pool of lava and recoiled back. She had been given a tracking device by the messenger, in order for her to find her way back after she tracked down Marissa. She clutched it with both hands. This, she thought, would be a really bad time to get lost.

"Cooper!"

"Summer?" The voice came back, weak and strained.

"Marissa!" Summer looked all around, trying to see where her friend was. "Where are you?"

"Here!"

Summer followed Marissa's cries. "Marissa, I'm here for you." She jogged in the direction of the voice. "Marissa hon, where are you."

"Summer, I'm right here." Summer could hear Marissa sob out the last word.

Summer took a few steps more, and then spotted Marissa. She looked dreadful–her always gaunt figure had been further slimmed until she was emaciated, her bones sticking out horribly. All along her body, cuts shallow and deep bled onto her ragged dress, and every square inch of her appeared cherry red with burns.

"Oh, Marissa baby..." Summer looked over. Marissa was surrounded by what appeared to be a very shallow pool of lava, too broad to step over. Taking a deep breath, Summer took as quick a hop in the pool as she could and stepped to where Marissa sat. She gasped from the burn and clenched her eyes shut, but made it across.

"Summer." Marissa's voice came out as a weak gasp. As Summer bent down to her, she wrapped her arms around Summer and squeezed–not hard, but Summer guessed it was as tightly as Marissa could manage.

"Don't worry. I'm hear." She hugged Marissa close to her. The pain made Summer keep her eyes tightly shut, leaving her only to hear Marissa's ragged breathing and smell burning flesh.

Marissa's flesh.

"Summer. It's..." Marissa couldn't complete her thought before she collapsed into sobs.

"It's okay, baby. It's all going to be okay." Summer rubbed her back, trying to do anything that might comfort her. For a second it worked; Summer could hear Marissa's breath become more calm. But then, all of a sudden, Summer could feel a burning sensation come from Marissa's body. It was at first gentle, but it grew in intensity every second. It felt like Marissa's body was dissolving into flames.

Summer grit her teeth and held on tighter. "Don't worry, Marissa. It'll be okay."

It felt like she was embracing an inferno. "I'm here for you."

Summer could feel Marissa's body soften in her arms. "I'll always be here for you."

"Summer..." Marissa's voice was barely a whisper. Summer opened her eyes despite the pain, just in time to see her friend collapse into a gooey heap. A few seconds longer, and nothing was left of Marissa except a bubbling, black pool.

A mist rose from the bubbles. For a second, Summer could see the could turn into a face–Marissa's face. She hissed, "Save me," and then evaporated into the air.

For a second, Summer sat there, stunned. Only as the flames began to lick the black pool did Summer start to cry.

)-)-)-)

The officials had assured Summer all of her burns would heal in just a couple of days. The flames were there to punish those who deserved it, not her.

She didn't care. As soon as she was bandaged up and sent back, she went straight to her room at the Tongau, wrapped herself in her sheets, and howled in despair.

Marissa was too good for hell. She didn't do anything wrong. It was Newport that had killed Marissa, not the fall–but those managing the afterlife sentenced her to ten years anyway, plus however long it took her to find heaven.

Newport killed her. The parties and the people and the money killed her.

And Summer killed her too.

_Coop! Look what I snuck in. Eighty proof. You like?_

_C'mon Coop, it's just cards and a little money. Everyone does it._

_Lemme guess, Coop–it was a little painful, really awkward. Don't worry, it's _much _better the second time around._

Summer deserved to be in Marissa's place, and Marissa in Summer's. No–Marissa deserved better than that. She deserved to be on a cloud, playing a harp, and Summer deserved to melt and burn. For all of eternity.

Marissa had a mom, and a dad, and a sister–for a long while, at least. She'd spent most of her years in the ideal nuclear family. Summer had a father who was out most of the time, a mother who had walked away years before, and a step-mom who was high on her meds whenever she wasn't drunk out her mind or calling Summer a spoiled bitch.

And she was just that. Jimmy Choo, Donna Karan, Hilfiger, Prada...those were the words around which her life turned. No substance, just material things.

Marissa maybe wasn't perfect, but she was something. Summer was nothing.

She could hear her door swing open. She snuggled her face deeper into her pillow.

"Summer?" It was Jai. "We're getting worried. I want you to start speaking."

Summer said the first thing that came out of her mind.

"I'm...nothing."

She could hear a sigh. "Summer. I don't know what happened to you or the girl while you two were on earth." (Summer's blood boiled at his mention of Marissa as "the girl.") "But you can't just sit around."

"Yes I can. You going to kick me out?"

"Summer...you can make yourself into a better person. You have–I've seen you. You're much more serene and cooperative and friendly than you were when you first showed up."

Summer stayed silent.

"Listen. You're angry about your friend and that's fine. But you can't do anything about that. It's over and out of your control." Summer thought for a second he was done, but Jai kept going: "Unless you get your butt out of that bed, then the only affect your friend has on the afterlife is you wasting your time. That's her only legacy. If you want that to be, fine. When you want to start living again though, I'll be up front."

Summer heard footsteps away from her, and the door shutting.

For a few minutes, Summer stayed in her bed as she was, wallowing and thinking. "Marissa." She began murmuring to herself. "You don't deserve it..."

She rolled over, letting her head escape its cloth prison. Jai's words echoed in her head, and no matter how many times she tried to shake them, they only grew louder.

For a second she pouted. "No. That's not all to her."

Summer tried to think about everyone in Marissa's family...there was Jimmy, Julie, Caitlyn, and now, Caleb. None of them were dead...Summer was sure she had met some other members of her family.

Marissa couldn't possibly have such a small family.

Summer strained her mind, trying to think up a face from the Cooper family, but she was frustrated. No one.

She thought for a moment longer and sighed. She slid the sheets off of her body, and slowly laid one foot onto the floor, then the other. Summer pushed up–stiffly; her body still ached from the burns. Tentatively, she shuffled to the door, where she put her hand on the doorknob, took a deep breath, and opened her door.


	16. A Jar of Coins

Raindrops

Quicksilvre

Sorry for waiting so long to write the next chapter. I wrote myself into a bit of a corner last time, and everything's been pretty crazy. Anyway, here it is.

)-)-)-)

Sitting in the passenger's seat of Jai's truck, Summer watched as Sonn and a few boxes bounced in the truck bed. The bumps in the dirt road they were going down and the speed at which Jai was driving made Sonn's job of keeping everything in, including himself, very difficult.

"You might want to slow down, Sonn nearly went tumbling out the back."

"Ah, the kid's fine." Jai kept his eyes glued to the road. "You gotta keep the momentum up on this baby; the second you ease up, you hit some mud, boom–you're stuck."

It was a few weeks after Summer got called down to Marissa. She had recovered quite nicely, at least on the outside, but Jai was not nearly as sure about the inside. He noticed that Summer was spending more time in the grove, eight or even ten hours a day, sometimes leaving at daybreak and only returning for dinner. He had to insist that she get away from work for a day and help sell some of the newly ripened plantains at the market in town.

Summer kept an eye on the rearview mirror as Sonn bounced around behind her. Ever since Marissa's death, she didn't want to be social with anyone unless it was completely necessary. She was always able to put a smile on her face and a perk in her voice for any guest that needed something. But she left to chop and harvest as early as she could, and would stay out there as long as she could without stopping. No breaks, not even to eat–whenever she broke her focus, the thoughts would come back.

Every erg spent working was an erg not spent on thinking.

Thinking was the last thing she wanted to do. Besides, she didn't want to go back to that town again. Not considering what happened the time before.

Too late now. Buildings were already coming into view, and far in the distance, Summer could see ant-sized people and stands.

"The boy's still with us, right? I can't see him back there but I didn't hear any loud thumps either."

"Yeah, he's behind the crate on the left side."

"Good." Jai checked his mirror and, seeing Sonn, nodded to him. In her mirror, Summer saw Sonn nod back. "Normally," Jai continued, "the plantains ripen a couple of weeks later than they have this year. Since we're the first ones with them, we'll probably get a good price." Jai looked at her out of the corner of his eye. "We ought to have plenty left over after necessities, so you and Sonn will have some spending money."

"Yeah?"

"I can bring you two up here next week. They've got some stands with things like clothes."

"Really?" Summer had, in her wardrobe, five tank tops, five short sleeved shirts, and ten pairs of jeans. All were basically the same. "Great!"

"Thought you'd like that."

"Heh. You've got no idea. You should have seen me when I was still in California." Summer plucked at her shirt in an exaggerated manner. "_Ew!_"

"Ha!" Jai pulled on the side of the road, near the edge of town. "Help me unload. Sonn'll set the stand up."

"All right."

)-)-)-)

"Four, please." A gentleman went up to the stand and deposited a small pile of coins upon the stand in front of Summer.

"Certainly." Summer took a bunch, chopped four plantains off, and gave them to Sonn for them to be bagged. She counted up the coins and put them in the cash jar. "Thank you!"

"Thank you." He took his bag from Sonn and continued on his way.

Summer wrote down the sale in the accounting notebook. "Looks like we're picking up the money at a good clip."

"Yeah." Sonn knelt down beside her and tried to open up the next crate. "We'll probably be sold out by later this afternoon. Might be able to have dinner there in the Tongau."

"Excellent." Summer looked down at him. "Need help?"

"No, I'm fine. The tape is just a little..." Sonn struggled with the knife. "Tend the top." Sonn ducked down lower, out of view from the front. "If this doesn't work, I'm going to have to run into the crowd and...nope. This blade is dull." Sonn got back up. "I can't cut in; I'll have to go find Jai and use his switchblade. Know which way he went?"

"He was going to get plywood...that way." Summer pointed in the direction Jai went.

"Thanks."

Summer sighed and leaned onto her elbows. It was mid-afternoon already, and the day was brutally hot and sunny. She would feel her shoulders and face bake in the sun; even though she used some of the ancient-looking sun-screen that the Tongau had lying around in tubs, she expected to spend most of the next day peeling off her skin.

Minutes passed. Summer was able to serve a few more people, but she began to grow a little concerned with the dwindling supply of plantains–she was left with only one bunch of six or seven. As she guessed Sonn was lost, she got down herself, and tried to rip away at the crate. It had been closed up with clear tape, to keep it from flying open on the ride over. It resisted both her nails and the old knife Sonn had left behind, but Summer was able to crawl around a bit and find a sharp rock. One slice, and the cargo was free.

"Heh heh. Yes." She grabbed a couple of bunches and popped back up. To her surprise, she found herself face-to-face with a youngish-looking, unshaven guy. "Oh, hello. Sorry about that...can I help you?"

He held up a folding knife. Opening it up, he said, "All that cash in that jar would be nice."

Summer paused, staring at the knife. "Uh..." She looked to the side. From the corner of her eye, she could see Jai and Sonn out in the crowd, twenty-five yards away but looking in the opposite direction. A thick bundle of sheet wood sat under Jai's arm.

"C'mon. Do it." He stuck the knife forward, until the tip brushed her collarbone. Summer reached for the jar, and for just a second the thief relaxed. It was then that she struck, swinging her arm and striking him in the head with the jar and its coins.

"Sonn! Jai!" She could see them whip around and start running over, before the thief tackled her. "Help, get over here!"

"Shut up, bitch!" The thief's face was distorted with pain and his eyes were nearly clenched shut, but he was still easily strong enough to pin her down by her neck, choking her. He reached for his knife, but before he could, Summer quickly kicked up, plunging her foot into his stomach. His wind was knocked from him, but he was only stunned for a moment. He was able to quickly grab the knife and jump back at her, leading with his blade.

Summer closed her eyes and lifted her arms to shield herself. It was just then that she heard a warrior's scream. She felt not a stab, but a tremendous concussion, sending her rolling to the side.

)-)-)-)

"I wish you didn't do what you did. You should have just left him take the money." Jai sounded calm, but his arms trembled as he drove the three of them away. His left arm was heavily wrapped in bandages. A knife wound–but a shallow one; a midwife in the crowd patched him up easily.

"I know. I just...I saw him vulnerable for a second and...I didn't want him to take the money from _me_." Summer's hand was clenched on her bruised face. A shiner was developing on her face, and on Sonn's as well, in the fight that followed with the thief. He was stubborn and strong, but they were persistent. They were all hurt, but the thief was vanquished and rounded up by the authorities.

"Okay. But he had a knife, Summer."

"I didn't..." Summer thought about how she was going to word it. "I didn't want to be the...weak one."

A pause. Jai kept driving for a few seconds.

"You're not weak."

Jai turned to her. It was the first time Summer noticed him face anything but the road. Or slow down, for that matter. "Just, don't try to be the hero next time. Okay?"

Summer managed a weak smile. "All right."


	17. By Summer's Hands

Raindrops

Quicksilvre

I mentioned this before, but thank you for reviewing. And if you haven't, well, what are you waiting for?

I sat down about a week ago and made a rough sketch of how I want this story to go. I've got a pretty good idea where I'm headed. I ought to be done by the end of April.

)-)-)-)

"Hey, kid." Jai bumped into Summer as she carried a basket of oranges into the Tongau's kitchen. He took a freshly fried plantain slices and popped it into her mouth. "Have a snack. Now–"

Summer furrowed her brow as she tasted it. "Sonn cooked this, didn't he?"

"Uh, yeah."

"I can tell. He puts way too much salt on these things. One day he's going to have a heart attack and die _again_."

"Well, just scrape off what you don't want. Now Summer..."

"How? It's in my mouth already."

Jai put his hand over her mouth. "Summer! This weekend, me and you and Sonn are going to close up the inn for spring cleaning. We aren't going to have any guests for about a week. On the first night, I'm going to cook us a nice, big feast just for us three. Real fancy. Wear those clothes that you just bought; I'm not sure if you'll have a whole lot of other opportunities." Jai looked right into her eyes. "Okay?"

"Okay!" was her muffled reply.

"Good. Leave those on the table. By the time you get the next crate in, it'll be about lunchtime. You might want to wash up after you do."

"All right. See ya in a few." As she was leaving, Summer turned back around. "You're cooking lunch, right?"

Jai laughed. "Of course."

"Good." Summer walked out, and Jai watched her stride out. He recalled how she was when she first came. She was so different than the broken girl that Sonn had carried in. No longer was she the stereotype, the valley girl who cared for nothing more than shopping and clothes and trends. Now she was just as gorgeous as ever, but strong and confident and warm, too. A wonderful person. He had started to think of her as the daughter he'd never had on earth.

It would be so painful for him to leave her behind. Sonn, too.

)-)-)-)

They didn't have to kick anyone out. The high turnover rate at the Tongau ensured that once they stopped taking new people in, the rooms rapidly emptied out. Within three days only a few guests were left, and a few days after that even they were gone.

Day one was supposed to be the easy day–laundry and bedding. All of the beds were stripped and mattresses were patched up. Any torn or frayed sheets were hemmed up–Jai was surprisingly good at the needle. Summer fluffed and re-stuffed pillows. Everything white was dumped into a big tub of diluted bleach, making them pearly and almost new. Everything that could not be salvaged went to Sonn, to be ripped into bandages and rags. It took a while to get everything together, given the volume of stuff that had to be cleaned, but once the three of them got into a rhythm, they moved through it all easily. By late afternoon, everything was stacked, folded, washed, and dried, leaving Summer and Sonn just enough time to clean up and Jai enough time to cook.

It had been a long while since Summer had been able to dress up for anything–up until recently, she had no good clothes to wear, just some work clothes. The Tongau's good luck in spring harvest changed that. To dinner, Summer wore a black sleeveless top and a blue skirt, both just purchased and never worn before. Sonn was well dressed too, in a silk shirt and his best pair of khakis.

"Wow, look at you." Summer took a good look at her friend. "I have to say, you clean up very well. Who knew?"

"Yeah, thanks. You do too." Sonn looked at her admiringly. "Guess I have to stop telling people that you're my brother."

Summer punched him in the shoulder. Sonn just laughed.

Both of them tried to help Jai out in the kitchen, but he was eager to prevent them, pushing them out and toward the porch. There they found what he had been doing while they were getting ready: he had cleaned his desk, slid it outside, and covered it in a tablecloth (really, one of the freshly bleached sheets). There were lit candles flickering in the darkening evening, a bottle of wine, glass goblets...and the same paper plates and napkins that the Tongau used for everything.

Sonn and Summer were just about to help themselves with the first taste of wine when Jai brought out dinner–glazed shark, a gigantic green salad, rolls, and the always-present plantain slices. "Children, I bring you grub. Don't stab each other getting the best of it."

Sonn playfully poked Summer with his fork. She tried to kick him under the table, but instead stubbed her toe on the desk, making the whole thing shake. It failed as revenge, but succeeded as entertainment.

)-)-)-)

Jai's dinner was exquisite. He cooked everything perfectly, well enough to rival any chef. All three of them helped themselves until they were full, and even then they found a little more room for Jai's last treat: a tub of chocolate ice cream for dessert.

It was then, when the three of them were finishing their bowls, that Jai tapped his fork against his glass. "Sonn, Summer, thank you for this lovely evening."

"Likewise, Jai." Summer wiped her lips. "You deserve the credit. You did all the cooking and all the setting up."

"Yeah." Sonn took the last spoonful from his bowl. "You should've let us at least do the table."

"No. I insist." Jai sighed and looked off into the distance, in between Sonn and Summer. For a moment, Summer though she saw a funny look in his face. It appeared as if his lips quivered for just a second.

"Jai?" Her voice came out low. "You okay?" She put her hand on his wrist.

"I'm more than okay, kid." He took her hand and gently tapped the top of it with his fist. "I'm just glad we could do this."

"Yeah." Summer looked at him and Sonn.

Sonn nodded. "Yeah. It's a nice family that we have." He looked at Jai, then back at Summer. Summer offered him her other hand, and he took it as well, curling his fingers between hers. For a few moments, they sat there, linked together by Summer's hands.

Jai was the first to speak next. "I'm too lucky to have what I have. Especially you"–he looked at Sonn–"and you"–at Summer. "You guys, I think, showed me the rest of the way to where I needed to be."

He fell silent again. The sky was covered by clouds, and anyway, the sun was set, and the flickering candles offered the only remaining light. A few gulls called off in the distance.

"Oh, Jai." Summer bit her lip. She started to realize what he was going to say, and it seemed overwhelming.

"I'm at the end of my journey, kids." Jai wiped his eye with his free hand. "I found out last week. Found a sign, a dream–one of the uniform guys told me that I clear out tonight. I wanted to make sure that the inn emptied out before I went, you know, so you guys don't have to deal with any of the guests if you don't want to. And, I wanted it–telling you–to be just like this."

He looked at Summer. Only at that moment, when she felt his gaze, did she realize she was crying. "Oh, Jai. That's..." She let her voice tailed off. No words seemed good enough to say. "That's wonderful, Jai." She looked over at Sonn. He was trying to keep a stoic face, but when Summer squeezed his hand, tears rolled down his face as they did on hers.

In a moment they were all standing. To Summer time seemed to melt away, and everything seemed to happen all at once. Summer saw herself holding Sonn, holding Jai, kissing Jai on the cheek, burying her face into his giant chest, all while she cried like a baby and watched the guys do the same. Every action seemed to float together and happen all at once, until they found themselves on the beach at the moment the sky opened up. All at once rain poured down on all three of them, not a few sprinkles but buckets, as if someone had turned on a shower.

Even the sky was crying.

The three of them scurried back inside. They were linked together as they had been at the dinner table, by Summer's hands.

)-)-)-)

It finally happened when Summer and Sonn were asleep, though the action itself woke them up.

One moment, Summer was asleep, and the next, she was awake–but not quite awake. She detected that something very odd was happening all around her, but it took a few moments for her to realize what. She thought she was awake, but she couldn't see a thing–like when she died and lost sight for a while.

She realized she was blind because she was surrounded by light. It was unbelievably bright, but not painfully so. It was so brilliant, it washed out every other sense. She heard nothing; she lost the feeling of the bed beneath her. She would have thought that she was floating around in ethereal space, but somehow, she knew that she was still in her bed.

And in a moment, it was over. The light faded almost instantly, and everything flooded back–the bed, the sheets around her, the room, the smell of the ocean, the sound of waves breaking.

She got up and ran to Jai's room. When she arrived, Sonn was already there–but Jai was nowhere to be seen. The depression from his weight was still on his mattress; Summer could see the shape of his head still pressed into his pillow.

Sonn sat down on his bed. "He's gone." His voice seemed unnaturally quiet.

Summer at down next to him. She could feel the warmth of Jai's body in his sheets. "Yeah." She rubbed his pillow. "We'll meet him again."

She looked right at him. There was some way that she said it, and that Sonn looked back at her, that made them both feel as if it was certain.

Sonn simply nodded. "Yeah."


	18. Orange Sky

Raindrops

Quicksilvre

Sorry for waiting so long to update again. School got crazy again, and just today I had a blood test, and I've had a lot of doctor's appointments...anyway, here it is.

)-)-)-)

Summer could hear the report of Sonn's hammer in the distance. She stood in the grove with a machete in her hand, hacking down bananas. It was the morning after Jai's rising, and, numbed, neither she nor Sonn knew what to do other than the usual. Sonn was up on the roof, replacing broken shingles, while Summer was in her usual spot.

_Hack, hack. Thump, thump._ Her machete and his hammer worked together, their blows perfectly timed with each other. They couldn't see each other–the grove was too thick were Summer stood, and it was probably a little far anyway–but their muscles twitched at the very same moment. Nails fell into place as bananas fell to the ground.

_Hack, thump. Hack, thump._ The dazed condition they were both in cleared both of their minds of all feeling and thought. The only thing that was left was the odd sensation that came to them right at the very moment Jai left.

_Hack, thump. Hack, thump._ It was as if the light had stayed on them, blanking out everything else.

_Hack, thump. Hack, thump._ Summer's arms ached, but they swung still with Sonn's. She looked up at the sky. The sun was getting pretty high; it was coming close to lunchtime. Summer decided the would shake the spell then.

_Hack, thump. Hack, thump._ But not yet.

)-)-)-)

It was getting awfully warm by the time lunchtime rolled around. Summer could both tell that summer was just about to start again. The sun was already beating down, and it was only going to grow worse during the afternoon.

When Summer approached the Tongau, Sonn was still up on the roof. He looked down at her as she went in.

"Could you start lunch today? I know it's my turn but I've got a few more that I want to replace here."

The first words since last night.

"Fine." Summer went inside without looking up, wishing he had said...she didn't know. She wished he had said anything else. Something more meaningful. Of course, she'd caught him at a bad time...it was just a bad situation. She tried to get her mind on something else.

She filled a pan with oil and put in on one burner of the stove. A second pan was lubed up and put down on the burner next to it. Grilled cheese and plantains–Summer's specialty. The right mix of the old life and the new afterlife.

As she waited for the pans to heat up, she sat at the kitchen table and held her head in her hands, as she listened to Sonn hammer on above her. She sat there, very still, for a few minutes, listening to the hammering. Something, something more than the work she had done in the garden, was making her so _tired_.

Of course, she knew what that something was.

She checked the pans–just about ready.

She sliced up the plantains and prepared the sandwiches for their greasy fate. As they always did, the slices of plantain sizzled fiercely as they dove into their hot bath, and the smell of frying filled the room.

It smelled a little too much like yesterday–it was too much like the smell of coconut oil, the scent that always clung to Jai. Summer went back to the table and laid her head onto it. She knew there was no way to forget, even for a second.

Yes, Jai deserved better. Yes, Jai was in a happy place. Yes, he had redeemed himself for every ill he had committed on earth, great and small. _But I need him. And Sonn needs him too._

"Hey." Sonn walked in, the hammer still in his hand. Summer snapped out of her thoughts, then slid right back into them again. The night before had been dreadfully hard on Sonn; he had known Jai far longer than she had. They slept together on his bed after his rising, his head snuggled on her shoulder–a damp shoulder, by the time the sun rose.

"Hey." She looked at him and saw only a blank expression. "It'll be done in a few minutes."

"Okay." He walked back out, as Summer chastised herself for not speaking up. She took a deep breath, and thought of how she could start. _Sonn, we gotta talk–no, too cliched. Sonn, I know Jai was–maybe a little too direct. Maybe I should ask him how he feels. Yeah, good as anything, I guess. Of course, he could just say fine and–_

Sonn walked back in, sans hammer. He walked over to the plantain pan and peeked at the frying slices. "These are done for the first round." He took them out, put them on the draining rack, and started squashing them flat, preparing them for the second fry.

"Listen, Sonn...how are you?"

"I'm fine." Calmly he ran through the slices and put them back into the oil.

"Really?"

"Sure."

There was something about the way he said it that made Summer not believe him. It was too rehearsed, too normal sounding–it was as if she was asking him how the roof repairs were.

"Sonn, we ought to have a walk after dinner, okay? I want to talk about things. I mean, I know Jai was..." She let her voice trailed off.

Sonn just shrugged. We went back over to the table and took up the sandwiches. Tossing them onto the other pan, he said simply, "Okay."

Summer turned her head, still lying on her folded arms, to face him. "Okay."

"And forget about me owing you a lunch."

She looked to where the sandwiches had sat–she was too deep in her thoughts to notice him taking over the cooking. "Oh. Uh, okay. I'll do dinner."

)-)-)-)

"So, what is it that you want to talk about?"

Summer looked sternly at Sonn. They were out on the beach at sunset, walking away from the Tongau Flats.

"Okay. I know."

"Sonn, I know how you and Jai were. I...don't want you to holding anything in on the inside, you know? I know how that eats at people."

"I'm fine."

"You weren't fine last night."

"I'm fine now." Sonn was more gruff than he had ever been toward her.

"No, you're not."

"Don't tell me how I feel. I know exactly how I am."

Summer knew he was only going to grow more defensive if she kept the conversation going the way it was. She didn't respond; instead, she looked out over the water, wondering what to say next.

The sky was a beautiful orange, unlike anything that she had seen in a long time. The only time she could recall the sky so colorful was when she first died, and she was out on the road, struggling. Getting rained on and eating ravioli out of the can.

"So, how was your father?" The words slipped out of her lips unconsciously. She didn't even how she was talking until she heard her own voice.

"Didn't see much of him, really. He was a bit of a gambler. He'd leave town, and he'd come back broke. Or he would come back with a mound of cash. Or whatever. Then, we'd spend a week at home and be gone for two months. You'd never know when he was around."

"Yeah. Mine was kinda the same way. Worked late, Saturdays too usually. But, it was nice when he was around. My mom, though. Left when I was..." Summer did a bit of thinking. It was getting harder to remember her California days. "Three. Fifteen years ago, now."

"Did your dad marry again?"

"Four times."

Sonn grinned. "A ladies' man?"

"Actually, after six months or so he and his new girl would be fighting. And all of them were alcoholics or lunatics."

"Oh." A pause. "Sorry."

"It's okay. Dad was there. Did you at least–"

"Yeah. My mother took care of me."

"Good."

They walked on, in silence. Coming upon a large, flat boulder, they climbed up on it and sat there, looking out at the sky. They spent a few minutes together quietly, before Summer spoke up again. "So, what are we going to do with the inn?"

"Open it back up, I guess. We can split up the duties Jai used to have."

"It's going to be hard with just the two of us."

"We'll get a replacement Jai."

"Think we'll find one?"

"No." He looked at her. "But I'll get a replacement Summer by the end of next week."

She laughed and playfully pushed him. "Do you really think it would be that easy?"

"No." Sonn's voice suddenly took a serious tone. "I'm glad I don't have to replace you.There's no replacing you, either."

She looked at him–right at him, straight into his eyes, and he into hers. They stared for a few seconds, and, without thinking or planning, their mouths were together. For a few seconds, Summer enjoyed the feel of his lips sliding against hers, and of his hands rubbing her arms, but her delight quickly faded.

She felt the wrong kind of love for Sonn. This was Cohen-love, and that was only for one person Not him.

Summer pulled away, gently. "No, Sonn. I'm sorry, this is...too weird."

He looked at her for a second. Summer thought she saw a pang of disappointment in his eyes, but it quickly vanished. He just smiled at her. "Okay."

"Is it?"

"Yeah. It just...happened, and it wasn't planned or anything–"

"Sonn." She cut him off. She took one last look into his eyes. No, she decided, he was telling the truth. It was curiosity, not romance. "All right."

They turned back to look back over at the horizon. Even though the sun was almost beyond visibility, the sky was still orange and as vivid as ever. It seemed as if nature was saving its best display for last.

It was an unknown number of minutes later that Summer first saw the speck out on the water. It didn't seem to be significant at first, but her eyes were drawn to it. The waves and the wind were conspiring to draw it closer to the shore, and each passing moment brought more detail. It went from a speck to a blob, then to a boat, then to a sailboat, a small one. And then...

"Oh my God." Summer jumped down, ran across the beach, and into the surf. The boat was only a short run away now, in waist-deep water by the time she reached it.

The _Summer Breeze_.

She inspected it for a few seconds, running her hand across the hull, before Sonn splashed up next to her. "What is–"

"It's Cohen's boat. _This is Cohen's boat_." She looked at him, then doubled back to the boat, and back to him.

"It's your time," said Sonn.

"What?"

"It's your time to go, too. This is a sign, Summer."

"What–are you sure?"

"Stay right there. I'm running back and I'm packing your bags. Don't say a thing. Get on and see if you're able to drive it."

Half-running and half-swimming, Sonn raced for the shore.

)-)-)-)

"This is all of yours that I could find."

"Thanks. Are you sure you're okay with me going?"

"Yes."

"Want to go with me?"

"No. This is your trip alone. Summer, I'll meet you on the other side."

"Yeah. The other side. See you then, hon."


	19. Second Interlude

Raindrops

Quicksilvre

I'm being good now; I'm starting this new chapter just a day after the last one went up. So there!

)-)-)-)

"Do you know if Seth and Anna are here already?" Lindsay slid out of the front seat of the rental car as Ryan opened the door for her. They were in the Cohen's driveway, fresh out of a Chicago-to-LAX flight for Thanksgiving break.

"They ought to be. Sandy said their flight landed around noon. They took the first one out of Pittsburgh this morning."

"Oh." Lindsay went straight for the trunk.

"You can go in. I'll get your stuff."

"Nuh-uh. I'm getting it. You can go ahead."

"Ryan! I insist. Here, let me get mine and you'll take yours."

"You have way more stuff than I do. Let me take at least some of yours in."

"All right. _Only_ if you insist." Lindsay laughed. "You'd have a lot of stuff too if your base was back in Chicago."

"Yeah, well, two whole suitcases for four days? No."

Lindsay took one of her suitcases and put the handle in his mouth. "Didn't you say you were going to carry some of my stuff in?"

"Wah, wut wit will–"

"That's enough out of you. Let's go." Slamming the trunk door shut, Lindsay led the way to the front door of the Cohen home. Taking her bag from his jaws, Ryan followed.

Neither of them had to knock or ring; Kirsten was right there. "Hey, guys. Happy Thanksgiving!"

"Happy Thanksgiving, Kirsten." Lindsay leaned over for a hug. "It's been too long. A year, almost."

"Yeah." She turned to Ryan. "Hello, stranger. You've been going so long between phone calls, I was about to send a search party."

"Yeah." Ryan embraced her. "It's been crazy. I've had classes and my internship...I've practically had to schedule time with Lindsay."

Kirsten took a hold of his cheeks and squeezed, drawing his mouth into a kissy face. "Don't forget to squeeze me in, too. Unless I'm–"

"Mont wewen wo dare."

"All right." Kirsten let go, and Ryan rubbed his cheeks, trying to get his face feel right again.

"Where's Seth and Anna?"

"Poolhouse. They've been waiting for you. They got the two-thirty spot of yours ahead of me."

"Kirsten." Laughing, Ryan moved through the house, over the familiar route to the back. By the time he was outside he could see both of them setting up. He waved, and Anna, facing him, waved back. Turning around, Seth only gave a nod.

"Hey." Ryan let himself in. "Hey man, how's it been."

"Hey Ryan." For a second, Seth and Ryan simply stared at each other, not really sure what to do next. Finally, Seth stepped up and tossed his arms around Ryan. Stiff for a second, Ryan reciprocated.

"Hey."

"It's been too long, man. Long three months."

"Yeah." For a second, they stood like that, not quite comfortable and not quite uncomfortable. Finally, Anna broke the two of them up to hug Ryan herself. "Hello you, remember me?"

"Eh, how could I forget." Their hug was not any more natural. When they broke apart, the three of them spent several seconds together in uneasy silence. Finally, Seth cleared his throat.

"So, yeah. We beat you here. Guess you and Lindsay are going to have to set up elsewhere. Uh, sorry, man."

"Hey, no problem. Kirsten probably already has an idea where to put us."

"Ah."

More silence. "So...after dinner I thought we could go up to the cemetery and, uh, make the rounds." Seth shifted uneasily and cleared his throat. Anna took a hold of one arm, and snuggled her head into his shoulder, smiling at him as he looked over at him. He managed a smile back, a weak one.

"Yeah. There's a florist right there, we can pick up two bouquets easy. I don't think we need to go to Mr. Roberts's, don't you think?"

"I never knew him."

They spent a few more minutes in uneasy silence. "Quiet," Ryan said finally.

Anna nodded her head, still resting on Seth's shoulder. "Well, yeah."

"Yeah." More silence.

"I'm going to go help out Sandy. I saw the fryer he had out in the driveway. Might not be a good idea to leave him alone with that, just in case."

"Yeah. All right, man."

Ryan took one last look at Seth. Something was definitely missing. Too quiet, for one thing, for someone who yammered to hear his own voice. But something was wrong with Seth's eyes, too. There was something a little too dark and a little too dead in them.

He was about to open his mouth, but something held him back. Not now, he decided. Later.

Ryan blazed a path out the door and down the driveway, in silence.

)-)-)-)

Ryan gently laid a few daisies on Marissa's stone. Or Marissa's monument, depending on how you looked at it–carvings, angels, doves...Julie Cooper had pulled out all stops on her daughter's grave. Either she genuinely bad about how things had been, or some wanted a presentable profile for Marissa in death. Or for herself.

Ryan had never been able to verbalize what he had thought of Marissa, when it was all said and done. He mumbled out a eulogy at her funeral, but it was nothing inspired, and hardly representative of what he felt.

Mostly, he didn't know what he felt. Well, he did. Mostly, he felt pity. Sometimes, when he thought about it, he wished he had love for her, but it just wasn't registering. He felt bad for her, but couldn't _feel_ for her.

Lindsay had taken that place, without...everything. Maybe it was for the best.

After silently staring at the marker for a while, he twisted together the last few flowers he had and walked a short distance, to where Summer laid.

He knew what to say to her: "Take care of her. You know how to." Placing his flowers, he looked up and nodded toward Seth, standing a short distance away. Seth just nodded back. Quietly, as Ryan walked toward him, Seth went by him going the other way and approached his old love.

Ryan's modest bouquet of a couple tulips were buried under a dozen red roses. He didn't pretend to hide how he felt, and he certainly never lost how he felt. Anna knew. She helped pick out the roses, when Seth first picked up a limp bunch. She knew that Summer occupied certain parts of his heart, that she wasn't going to get at. She knew she was no replacement for her.

_I don't want to be Summer, honey,_ she had told him. _I just want to make you happy._

Running his fingertips over her name, Seth felt tears trickle down his cheeks. Anna was far, far too kind to him. She didn't deserve to be the understudy. She didn't deserve to be limited to perking him up.

She didn't deserve a futile mission. Seth Cohen knew, as he looked at the what was left of his love, that he was not going to be happy, ever again.


	20. Deadly Necklace

Raindrops

Quicksilvre

Again, sorry about waiting so long to write again–I haven't forgotten about this, I swear. I was hoping that I would upload at least two chapters during Spring break (this last week), but between my health, studying (AP tests are right around the corner), college stuff (finishing my FAFSA, visiting Rensselaer), and reading _The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, _I haven't had the opportunity.

So, without further adieu, here we go.

)-)-)-)

When the wind began to pick up, carrying Summer away from the shore, she realized that she had no clue what she was doing. All she knew about sailing was what she had picked up from Cohen, watching him fool around with the ropes and pulleys the few times she had been on the _Summer Breeze_.

She wished she had been more attentive during life. Then again, there wasn't much that she could have learned.

"_Cohen, what is with you noodling around with all those ropes–aggh." The wind made one cable whap into Summer's face._

"_Sorry." Cohen took hold of the offending strand. "I have to adjust the sail."_

"_Can't you just let the wind blow us around?"_

"_Uh-uh. See, whenever the wind...whoa whoa WHOA!" Summer squeaked as Cohen fell into the water, splashing her and tilting the boat with a little wave._

She shook off the fantasy. Summer hoped that Cohen's bad footing didn't blow it for her. It wasn't as if she could have done too much anyway; the sun had been set for more than an hour. It was already pitch black. Almost, at least. There was a full moon out, but it was _too_ bright, drowning out all of the dimmer stars it its light.

She looked up at it, trying to figure out which way she was going. She knew that the full moon rose at the time the sun set, in the same place. Therefore, she figured that it was probably in the eastern sky, maybe a little toward the southeastern. Feeling herself move along side and away from it by the steady wind, Summer guessed that the boat was moving north.

Now, all she had to do was figure out how to steer, and she was good to go. She took a hold of one of the ropes she saw and tugged. The sail it was attached to whipped around in the wind, shifting toward her suddenly and almost knocking her into the water. Cursing, Summer had to let go in order to grab hold of the side, to keep from plunging in.

Despite the wind pushing it, the sail shifted back into the position it was in before. "What?" Summer got back to where she was before and tried tugging at the rope; the sail refused to budge from its old position. A few more pulls, harder this time, confirmed that the rope wasn't going to be pulled from where it was for anything. Trying everything else, Summer found that everything used to steer the boat was locked fast.

No matter what Summer tried to override it, the _Summer Breeze_ seemed to be on some sort of spiritual autopilot. After trying everything a second and then a third time, she gave up. She decided she wanted to go wherever the boat was taking her. Besides, it wasn't as if there was any place better she wanted to go.

A chill fell over the water, and Summer shivered. Above her, dark clouds shifted about, blotting out the moon. The _Summer Breeze_, seemingly in tune with the skies, took a wide turn and began to move in the same direction as the clouds. Hugging herself, Summer settled down on the bow. It looked as if it was going to be a long night.

)-)-)-)

She awoke as the morning sun began to warm her skin. Feeling herself bob around, Summer sat up and looked at her surroundings. Overnight, the wind had blown her to within swimming distance of an island–not a very large one; just a little tropical isle, not too different than the place she left behind. She figured that she couldn't have drifted too far. Still, the old coast was far out of sight.

The wind had died down, but the water was only a few feet deep, reaching only to Summer's chest when she jumped in. Tying one of the ropes from the mast around herself, she was able to walk the last few hundred feet to shore without any trouble. The water was refreshingly cool compared to the sun, and, unlike the coast in front of the Tongau Flats, wonderfully free from coral. Nothing was underfoot but assorted fish and tan, smooth sand, perfectly ridged by the gentle waves. She easily found a boulder to which she could tie the _Summer Breeze_ and walked ashore.

There wasn't too much to see; while the sun sparkled over all of creation, "all of creation," from her vantage point, were a few coconut palms, some rocks, lots of sand, the _Summer Breeze_, and herself.

Slim pickings.

Carrying a sack of cobbled-together supplies with her, she went up onto the beach. There was no food to speak of other than the coconuts, and these, she knew, would be too tough to break open. She brought together a load of sticks, whatever kindling she could find, and pulled a flint from her bag. After a few unsuccessful tries, she was able to set the pile ablaze. Picking around the beach for a bit, she found what she needed–a long stick, straight and not too wide. She picked around in her bag again and this time pulled out a knife. Summer carefully hemmed away at the end of the stick, creating an ever-sharper edge while tossing the shavings into the fire. By the time she had finished her spear and darkened its tip in the fire, it seemed to be well past noon. It was very convenient; there was no point to go out hunting if she wasn't hungry.

)-)-)-)

Finding the _Summer Breeze's _anchor made Summer feel a little better about not being able to steer the ship. It was good to know that there was one thing she knew how to operate on the damn thing. That anchor became handy when Summer towed the boat back out to the water, her spear on its deck. She knew that she would have to leave lunch somewhere after she caught it.

After she found a good place to drop the anchor, Summer took her weapon and dove under the water. For a second the salt water stung her eyes, but a few moments and blinks later, they refocused and looked out at what was before her. It was the kind of prefect, idyllic scene that reminded her of her biology textbook. Seaweed wafted in gentle currents as colorful fish darted about. She swam around, exploring her setting a bit, before going up, gathering another big breath of air, and diving back down.

It was after this second dive that Summer saw the shark. It was no small thing–it was hard to tell how long it was from her vantage point, but she figured it had to be as long as she was. It was sliding through the water in a way that made it seem, at least to her, very ill-mannered. If it was going to be lunch, she would need to be very careful.

First, Summer went up, got as much fresh air as she could, adjusted the spear in her hand, and went back down. As soon as she got underwater, she realized that she wasn't the only one thinking about food. The shark had spotted her while she was above water and was now charging her like a bull elephant. She froze; the first thing she thought about doing to rectify the situation was swimming the other way, very very quickly. After deciding she couldn't possibly make it back to the _Summer Breeze_ before losing at least an arm and a leg, she simply gulped and took hold of the spear with both hands.

The first clash between them was not successful for either one of them. The shark missed as Summer swam out of its way, only managing to scrape its rough skin by hers. Summer was only able to inflict a shallow scratch along the shark's side. After swimming away from each other for a moment, they turned around and faced each other. For a bit Summer wondered whether the shark would charge again; the answer came quickly, in the form of her adversary shooting at her as if from a bullet.

She was only able to get out of the shark's path at the very last second. Diving out of the way, she inadvertently ran one hand across the shark's back. For a moment she could only see the water and bubbles around her, but suddenly, as the feeling of the shark's sandpaper skin faded from her palm, she found herself back in Orange County.

Summer found herself when she was four years old, in her room. Though she couldn't understand all the words Mommy and Daddy were screaming at each other, a lot of them sounded really bad. Then, she could hear them in the driveway. She went over to the window and peeked down, just in time to see her mother drive away.

She found herself when she was twelve and in the cafeteria of her middle school, carrying a tray back to her seat. She didn't see the slippery spot on the floor until it was too late; her pizza, chocolate milk and ice cream flew high into the air, scraped the ceiling, and went back down, all over her. Then, she found herself in the guidance office, her clothes streaked with red and brown, screaming and sobbing at the principal and her flustered dad as she begged to be transferred out.

She found herself when she was fifteen, at someone's beach-house party. She didn't know who was the host, or even necessarily where she was. Holly had driven Summer there, and had given her the flask of whiskey that she had been emptying when she'd met the guy from USC. The rest of that memory was a series of disjointed snapshots–her giggling drunkenly as he led her into a bathroom; her bursting out of it; screaming and punching; her running out of the house and onto the sand, into the night.

Summer snapped back into reality as she realized the shark was behind her. She turned to face it and, seeing it charge, charged in turn, thrusting the spear into its throat.

)-)-)-)

Summer rolled the lifeless body of the shark from the deck of the _Summer Breeze_ onto the beach. The broken spear, covered in blood, still stick out of its mouth grotesquely. Indentations along the shark's body showed where Summer had bashed it with the part that had broken off in her hands. After she was satisfied that it would not roll back down, she went back to the boat, plucked a bunch of mussels that she found in the sand on the way back, and tossed them next to the shark before tying the boat up again.

She got to work bringing the fire, now only barely smoldering, to a state that would be best for cooking. Having decided that it would be too hard to carve the shark up, Summer tossed some of the mussels onto the woody coals and let them poach in the shells. As they popped open, one by one, she took her half of the shattered stick and carefully removed them first from the fire, then, after they cooled, out of their shells and into her mouth.

Once she was finished, Summer went back over to the shark. With a knife, she sawed above and below its mouth, cutting through first its skin, then muscle, and then tendon, reaching the jawbone. An hour of sawing, pulling, and twisting made the top half of the jaw pop out of place, allowing Summer to pull it out–carefully, as the teeth were still attached. A few more minutes of work yielded its bottom half. After washing both halves in the sea, Summer cut out some of the stringy tendons, tied them around the ends of the jaws, and carefully lowered the construction onto her head. It formed a giant, deadly necklace, with sharp rows of nasty teeth pointing out away from her, arching over her chest and her back. It was a bit heavy, but Summer managed to adjust the straps so they settled just right on her shoulders, in a way that held up the necklace in the safest and most comfortable way.

It was about the time that Summer looked up and noticed a tiny column of smoke, off in the distance. At first she looked quizzically at it, then looked reflectively at what was left of the shark.

It was a big one, at least one hundred pounds. Well, maybe not that heavy, but certainly too big to carry. Definitely too big for her to eat on her own.

She rolled the shark back into the water, tied one of the boat's ropes around it, and another back around her waist. She had another journey ahead. Adjusting her necklace one last time, she waded off into the distance.


	21. Fisherman

Raindrops

Quicksilvre

Now that AP's are done, I might be able to get chapters in more quickly. We're coming close to the end here; I'd like to get this all done before graduation (June 26 for me).

)-)-)-)

The island was quite a bit bigger than it seemed. When Summer was sailing toward it, it looked as if it couldn't be more than a mile or two wide. However, as she continued onward toward the column of smoke, it was clear that it contained a whole lot more land than that. Two hours worth of wading had brought her only part of the way there. Still, Summer trudged on, prey in tow.

Summer flicked a mosquito off of her shoulder, and a fly off of the shark. She hoped that it would stay together for at least a few more hours. She looked at its collapsed head; other than that, it was still in good condition. She hadn't any idea how long it would take for it before it began to rot. _Not soon_, she hoped.

She looked back up. Squinting, she wondered how much closer she had gotten to the smoke column. She knew that she had to be at least a few miles from where she'd landed, as it was looking much thicker than it had. Either she was getting that much closer, or the fire had grown much bigger. She strained her ears, listening for the distant roar of an inferno, and heard nothing. The fire couldn't have been that big.

If the fire was small, and staying small, she hoped that something was keeping it that way. Or, maybe, someone.

She adjusted her new necklace on her shoulders. The hinges had stayed well knotted and showed no signs of falling apart. The whole thing was only a little bit bigger around than her neck, so several of the teeth snuggled right next to her skin. Passing by a little bay that had been cut off from the ocean, Summer peered at her reflection in the calm water. Her skin was as golden from sun as ever, her hair had become a bewildering black tangle and her clothes were all muddy, leaving the shark jaws as a shock of blood red and pearly white against the brown and tan.

Summer splashed some hair onto her face and head, trying to work herself into a bit more presentable state. If there was someone else on the island, she wanted to look good. Even if there wasn't, she still wanted a little bit of Newport Beach Summer back. A few handfuls fixed her hair part of the way and washed her face clean, but old Summer still wasn't coming back. It wasn't just tanned skin or dirty clothes: her eyes, strong and fierce, stared back at her once the pool had calmed down enough to show a reflection again. They were eyes that ran over the razor-sharp points that hovered next to her throat.

_No, this is useless. Old Summer_, she said to herself, _is long dead. She died on the freeway, came back to live at the Tongau, and then died again picking bananas. Summer Roberts got worked to death in the fields and came out new. Came out better, even. You are who you are now. _

A coconut fell from a palm tree and into the bay, its waves breaking up the reflection. For a moments Summer thought she saw her old self come back, but as the waves broke up the image, she knew it was for the last time. She went back out a few feet into the water and walked on.

)-)-)-)

It was about an hour later, when she was busily brushing off bugs, that she finally made it to where she wanted to be. It was clear that this was no forest fire. Summer had become someone else's neighbors. The column of smoke now spiraled high above her into the sky above her, and the sound of gentle chants was beginning to fill the air. Tying the shark to a rock in the surf, she climbed up onto the beach and edged toward the music.

There were eight or ten people there. People shuffled around, under a shelter and around the fire–which from here spread smoke in almost every direction, cutting down on how well Summer could see. She craned forward, trying to get a closer look while staying unseen.

For a few minutes she studied them as well as she could. As much as the smoke blocked her view, she was able to see much of what the tribe had: a couple shelters, a few spears lying around, and a couple of fish drying on a rack. As far as she could tell, no one there was a child or even as young as she was. Everyone in the little tribe seemed to be middle aged at the very least. A couple of fish were being doled out to everyone present. Whole, the plump and colorful fish looked like a fine feast, but as they were cut up for everyone it seemed that each portion was painfully small.

A rustle near her sent Summer scurrying for cover behind a bush. A few dozen yards away, someone was floating in on a raft. Everyone in the tribe looked up at the arrival, with a few even running up to him, but they were to be disappointed: he was empty-handed. Moving right in front of her, Summer could see their ribs and collarbones poke out under their skin.

Summer looked away for a moment. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed something further behind her. Behind the bush, there was a large, flat boulder, that seemed to hover a little bit off the ground. Tiptoeing back, trying not to catch attention from any of the others, she went up to the rock and looked under.

Her stomach instantly flipped.

The rock wasn't hovering, it was held up very well by a pile of bones–human bones. Ribs and skulls were strewn all around as a neat ring of leg bones supported the rock a foot off the ground. Summer's first instinct was to run back, or, more probably, stumble back and scream. However, the fisherman and the rest of his tribe was still right behind her. She stifled back something in her throat and stayed right where she was.

Summer never knew what inspired her to reach out and touch anything down there, but before she realized what she was doing, her fingertips brushed the skull closest to her. She snapped back into thought the instant she could feel its hardness, but that one little touch was all that it took.

)-)-)-)

Summer could see herself running down the beach, but she could sense that it wasn't _her_ running down the beach. She didn't look down to see herself, but instinctively she knew that she was someone else–someone who was very frightened about something. Looking out into the water, she realized, in a moment of horror, what that something was.

About twenty yards from the shore, there was something thrashing about in the water. After a moment, Summer could see a man with a spear appear in the water for a second, but then a huge shark's tail smashed him in the head. The man went under; a few moments later, the water around him became dyed red. Summer could see herself run out in the water, just in time to see the shark swim away with something huge in its mouth, something as big as the shark itself. When she arrived at the scene, the blood was still thick in the water, its smell filling the air. A few fish, speared by the attacked man, floated around in the bloody water.

She picked up one of the fish, looked out to where the shark swam off, and then back to the shore. Many people, many more than Summer had just seen, were looking out at her, most of their faces streaked with anguish. Looking back at everyone gathered, she saw how even then their bodies were thin. Beyond them, the wind blew the branches of a few withered fruit trees, making them drop their meager crop onto the sand.

She suddenly felt very cold and very hungry. Gathering up all of the fish that hadn't been carried off, she slowly trudged back to shore.

)-)-)-)

She snapped out of it. Within her heart, she could feel a swell of pity for the others. They were starving, for a shark had swept their last true fisherman away as if he had been a leaf in the wind.

Now it was time. Summer stepped out into view.

"Er..."

Those in front of her turned around and faced her. The man from the boat picked up his spear and got ready to throw.

)-)-)-)

"No, no no. I'm not here to hurt any of you." Summer spoke as softly as she could, holding her hands out, palms up. "I don't have any weapons. I can't do anything. Calm down."

The fisherman–replacement fisherman, she assumed–stared hard at her for a few seconds, then lowered the spear. He began to speak at her, but it was in a tongue Summer was not familiar with. Since her death she had been able to understand everyone, no matter what language they spoke, and everyone understood her too. It took her a few moments to concentrate on what the annoyed-sounding fisherman was saying.

_Iur fhlag iguoipde gottid_... "...and we have been on this island for many, many years. We have been perfectly happy here without neighbors and we expect to stay that way. We must ask you to leave and let us be."

"I...I landed here just last night..."

That he seemed to understand. "You must leave tonight."

Summer paused, looking at him. He gripped the spear again, making his skin stretch tighter over his skeleton. "I understand how–"

"Go, stranger." The fisherman was keeping up his pride. Looking at him, she could see the anger in his eyes, mixed with a little hidden shame. She opened her mouth to say something, but instead she found it wiser just to turn heel and walk back. After she took a few steps, she heard the others first mumble to themselves, then walk back to their camp.

She returned to the rock to which she had tied the shark. Tying the rope back around her waist, she brushed her hand across its skin. There was no flashback this time, but she knew. There was no doubt to whom should receive and eat it. She walked back around in the water, towing the shark behind her.

"You must leave _now_." The same voice again.

"Very well." Summer walked back onto the shore and dragged the shark onto the beach. "I can go now." She took one last look at the astonished people in front of her, and then turned heel, stopping only to brush the flies off of the shark one last time.


	22. Floating

Raindrops

Quicksilvre

)-)-)-)

After tying the _Summer Breeze_ down, Summer waded the last few yards back to her camp. The sun was setting, giving off the vivid orange color that Summer was so familiar with. Taking a towel from the boat back with her, she threw it down on the beach, near the surf, and laid down on it. She stared into the colorful sky and let the dying sun warm her.

Summer couldn't stop thinking about what she had seen in the fisherman's eyes. The reception she got was far from that she expected. She couldn't believe the hostility and pain she saw. Over and over she chewed over everything, wondering what had gone wrong–did she not give it as graciously as she hoped? Was the fisherman just being a stubborn ass? Should she have taken the shark back? She adjusted the shark-jaw necklace. No, she decided, she definitely should not have taken it back. They needed it. Still, something had gone wrong in the exchange, and she couldn't decide what.

She decided that not thinking about it for a minute would clear her mind. Concentrating on the sunset, she made a list of everything that had happened. First, there was the driving in the storm, crashing, and dying. Then there was the introduction to the afterlife, the beginning of her journey, and her rude reception in town. Then, there was the Tongau, Sonn, Jai...Sonn. She'd left Sonn all alone. Maybe that's where she went wrong; maybe she was still a little too immature to be off on her own.

For a minute she thought about that. Seeing the water rolling in, she moved further ashore, near where the sand turned to mud. Just before settling down again, she noticed something rustling in the trees. Taking her broken spear handle, she edged carefully toward the edge of the forest. She could just see something peeking out from behind a tree.

"Hello?" No response. Summer soon realized what she was looking at. She grew more authoritative. "Listen. I am sorry if the shark insulted you. But it was far, far more than I could eat on my own."

The fisherman walked out into view. He now had some face paint on, two lines going across his cheeks and down his throat. "We do not need your charity."

"No. I'm sure you don't." Summer knew from Newport Beach about the importance of keeping appearances. "But I saw the smoke from your fire, and I did not want the shark to go to waste."

The fisherman had no response. Instead, he ducked down and brandished a rusty sword. "I will not permit you to insult my people, girl. You must leave immediately or face consequences for your insolence."

"Your people?"

"Yes, my people. They are no one else's."

Summer thought for a second, staring at the fisherman, as an idea formed in her head. After looking at his face for a few more seconds, she ducked down, took a fingerful of mud, and slowly traced it along her cheek, painting herself in the way of the fisherman. She got back up again, as the fisherman looked at her with mild confusion. "Your people might be your people," she said, "but we're all people. I'm no different."

"But..." Summer never heard the fisherman's response, because it never made it out of his throat. Instead, he clamped his mouth shut, threw one last look at her, and slid back into the woods. After the sound of rustling leaves died, there was no sign of him left.

)-)-)-)

Summer looked into a freshly-formed tidal pool. The lines of mud were there, on her face and neck. Yes, it had happened. It was not a mirror-image of the fisherman's but her markings were close enough. Any other visitor to the island could have assumed her to be of the same people of the fisherman and the rest.

And she was, of course.

She walked back to where she was camped. Every bit of doubt had abandoned her. She now knew, with one hundred percent confidence, that she had done the right thing. The only right thing she could have done was to abandon the shark with the tribe. It was how neighbors treated each other, how tribesman treated each other, how _people_ treated each other. And that was exactly what they were.

The sun now was very low in the sky, with just a sliver peeking above the horizon. Its last rays dyed the sky orange and purple as Summer watched the dark slowly roll in. Ever since her death, the sunsets always seemed more vivid, but this one was the grandest of them all. She felt that, for the first time in her existence, she understood how things worked, and nature was giving her its greatest rewards. Sleep began to tickle at her eyelids, and as the sun fully set the color drained out of the sky. The moon and stars came out with the milky way's lazy path. A cool breeze blew across the beach, breaking the hot, humid air. As Summer slid into dream-world, she imagined the earth's pulse synchronize with her own. The breeze felt like a blanket wrapping itself around her shoulders, and the beach like a bed, curving around her in a firm hug.

)-)-)-)

She felt herself floating again, like she was when she first died, but the panic of that moment was not with her. Everything was the same–the sterling light, the feeling of numbness, the lack and slow recovery of sensation–except her emotion. Pain was replaced with happiness. She knew that the distance between her and eternal joy was growing short.

As her eyesight came back, and the light faded, she looked for the sign that she knew was there. It was only a few moments before she saw Jai beneath her, waving up.

"Hey, you!"

He laughed. "Fancy seeing you here. Boy, that wasn't long!"

"Jai, is this..."

"Yup. Your time, kid. From here on in, you know what to do."

She felt her lips curl into a smile. "Thank you. See you soon, Jai."

"See you soon, Summer."

)-)-)-)

She opened her eyes again. It was morning, and there was no sign of the fisherman or anyone else around her. Yet, Summer could feel herself surrounded. She could feel the fish in the water, the crabs scuttling on the beach, the bugs in the air, even the pebbles in the mud. She was in tune with everything now, and everything would lead her to her final resting place.

She went back to the tidal pool and washed the muddy lines from her face. They weren't necessary anymore; she knew that where she and the fisherman stood. With quiet resolve, she gathered up her towel, took stock of all her things, and untied the _Summer Breeze_ from its rock. Clueless to its workings a day and a half before, she now knew exactly what she was doing. The sea guided her hands along the ropes as its currents stirred beneath her, gently guiding the boat away from shore. When she was far enough clear, the wind took over, catching the sail and tugging her into the open water.

)-)-)-)

Stay tuned. One chapter to go!


	23. Dolphins

Raindrops

Quicksilvre

First, I'd like to thank everyone who has reviewed this story. It's really been encouraging to see people liking it enough to say so. And, again, sorry for going so long without sitting down and finally getting to the final chapter. But, here it is.

-)-)-)-)

The wind picked up quickly, billowing the _Summer Breeze_'s sail out as far as it would go. It felt like a giant, powerful, heavenly hand pushing Summer out to sea. The currents were also cooperating, helping the boat go as fast as it could. The bright morning sun beat down on her and on the sea, illuminating the waters brilliantly. All around her Summer could see huge schools of colorful fish and vast reefs of bright coral. The speed at which the boat moved was incredible; within just fifteen minutes the isle she had slept the night before was nothing more than a tiny speck on the horizon. A few minutes more and it was gone.

There was no telling which way she was going. Summer was positive that she had brought a compass with her when she left the Tongau Flats, but a through search of the ship came up with nothing. The rising sun disoriented her when she tried to use that as a reference point. She realized that, no matter what direction she was headed, it hardly mattered; the current and wind was too strong for her to steer the boat anywhere but the one it was heading.

Without anything to protect her from it, the sun baked Summer slowly. As it climbed closer to the top of the sky it slowly addled her into drowsiness. After trying for a little while to stay awake, she decided it was no use. Setting her towel up into a little tent, Summer crawled into the shade, made sure everything in the boat was okay, and let herself drift off into a dreamless sleep.

-)-)-)-)

The sun continued to move across the sky, moving past its peak into the western sky. As it went on its path it slid by Summer's towel and began to warm her dark hair. As her head got hotter, she began t stir. It took her a few moments to take account of her surroundings, as she had to wonder for a minute where her beach went. When she finally came to, she slid back out and took account of everything. She was still out in the middle of nowhere; nothing was visible but water and sky. At first glance, nothing had changed. However, when she looked into the water near her boat, she noticed something moving along next to her.

They were gray, finned, and torpedo shaped. She recoiled, at first thinking they were more sharks. However, once she got a good look, she realized that she was being followed by dolphins. They ringed her boat, six of them in a perfect circle with her at the center. After watching them for a minute–one or two leaped out of the water, squeaking and barking–she sensed that something was missing. Looking at the sail, she realized that all of the wind had completely died down. The sail hung limply from its fastenings. However, it seemed as though she was still moving as fast as ever. Summer looked in the water for any ropes or strings that might attach her boat to the dolphins, but found nothing. She dropped the sail, secured everything down, and held on for the ride, no matter how she was moving or where.

-)-)-)-)

Hours seemed to pass. The sun went from being overhead to back near the horizon. The dolphins continued to push forward at top speed, without a break, and so did the _Summer Breeze_. Trying her best to stay out of the sun, Summer could do little more than stare out into the water and think. Without anything to compare herself to there was no where to tell where she was or how far she had gone, other than that she was an awfully long way from land.

As the sun continued to go down, and day passed into twilight, the dolphins seemed to slow down, but only a little. The light melted away into the west, and the stars began to peek into view. Without any light anywhere, the view was spectacular. Thousands of stars were visible, and the Milky Way, always invisible under the cover of streetlights and flood lamps back in Orange County, spiraled from one side of the sky to the other. In the months since her death, Summer had seen this sky dozens of times, but this was the first time she compared it to what it was like back in California. In Newport Beach, one could see maybe fifty stars, or a hundred. The sky there was an inky sea, broken up only by the Big Dipper, the moon, and dimly glowing stars randomly spread here and there. Now, the whole sky seemed to be aglow, with almost as much light as dark. Instead of the dim pinpricks, one could see brilliant pearls, most white, some blue or red. There was no moon tonight, but so many stars were out that its presence was betrayed by a black disc, hanging low in the sky.

She still missed her father, and Marissa, and Seth, and everyone back home. Still, Summer realized that her new existence was the best thing that ever happened to her. As much as she cried and resisted at first, every minute of it had been enriching. She was stronger than ever, and she was being rewarded with nature's beauty. And she knew that she wouldn't have to be away from everyone forever. Eventually they would all come along this path–her parents, the Cohens, Ryan, Seth, even Marissa someday. No one had to tell her; she knew.

The dolphins were continuing on their path, in the dark. Summer was alone on the boat, but she was secure in the knowledge that she wouldn't be alone for long. She turned in, curling up on the deck under her towel. She quickly drifted off to sleep, imagining that she was curled up with Seth back home, looking up at the thousands of impossibly beautiful stars.

-)-)-)-)

Summer awoke to a slight bump. The morning sun was the first thing that caught her eye, followed by the boat and the dolphins, now grouped together and off to one side. Curious to see what had made them break formation, Summer turned around. Her jaw instantly dropped.

As far as she could see, the water had been replaced with granite. While one side of her remained water, the other was dominated by a featureless plain of grayish-brown rock, going out forever. The waves on the ocean gently lapped at the edge and bounced back out, creating standing waves that bobbed the boat gently.

She had reached the edge of the world. The edge of this world, at least.

One of the dolphins swam up next to the boat and began squeaking at her. It was obviously very excited about something, as it bobbed its head, swum back and forth, and continued going on as if it was Flipper. Its calls puzzled Summer, until it was practically jumping onto the _Summer Breeze_ trying to get to her.

"Oh!" A light turned on in her head. "You want me to hop on."

It squeaked eagerly and bounced around in reply. Backing away from the boat a few feet, the dolphin inhaled deeply, let it all out, inhaled again, blew it out again, over and over five or six times before calling out to Summer again. "I have to store up my breath?" More eager squeaks. "Okay. Give me a few minutes to get ready."

Summer climbed out of the boat and onto the shelf of granite. She closed her eyes, cleared her mind of all thoughts, and slowly brought air in and out of her lungs. She hyperventilated herself as well as she could, expecting some sort of dive. After five minutes of filling her lungs, the dolphin swam up next to her and she tentatively slid onto his back. (Summer didn't know how to tell boy dolphins from girl dolphins, but she decided to think of it as a boy.) She had ridden a dolphin once before, in an amusement park back when she was six. That time, it was just a gentle ride in a pool; holding on was easy. This time, Summer knew to expect a rough time. She laid belly down on his back, wrapped one arm around his body, and used her free hand to plug her nose. Taking one last giant breath, she slapped the dolphin's side and braced herself.

In a burst of bubbles, the dolphin and Summer shot down into the deep. At first the pace wasn't overwhelming; they were swimming faster than Summer could do alone, but they weren't going at an overwhelming speed. However, as the light from above faded, Summer could feel their pace grow faster. She could feel the dolphin's tail flap madly as they accelerated and dove deeper into the water. Thirty seconds passed, then a minute, as they continued down. No longer were they getting light from above; Summer could feel the pressure around them building up in her ears.

A minute and a half now. Summer felt herself turning in the direction of the granite, leveling off in their dive. Feeling her back occasionally brush itself along something hard, she guessed that they were now moving through a tunner. The pressure and lack of oxygen were starting to pound gently on her forehead as she began to struggle with holding on to both the dolphin and her air. She was able to wrap her other arm around the dolphin for a stronger grip, no longer needing to pinch her nose.

Two minutes. She felt the ride begin to grow faster again. The pounding on her head was growing more severe. Summer began to wonder if it was possible to drown. She pressed her face into the dolphin's back hard enough to feel the blood pump through his veins. Every moment was beginning to feel like an eternity.

_This is it. I guess I either make it to the other side or I die. _She felt a pang of fear, but fear was quickly replaced by peace. _Eh. It's okay either way. Everyone's made it worthwhile even if I don't make it._

_Daddy? I love you. I wish I could've spent more time on earth with you. Same thing goes with you, Marissa. And I love you too, Cohen._

Summer couldn't tell how long she had been underwater. It felt like ten minutes, or fifteen, or even a half-hour, but she knew it couldn't have been more than three or four minutes. She felt herself exiting the tunnel and shooting back upwards again.

_Oh, Seth. _A familiar face floated though Summer's mind. _It won't be the same without you. There's nothing out there than can even compare. I'll wait for you. I don't care if it's nine years or ninety years; I'll be watching and waiting for you to come back to me. And then, we can be in heaven together._

They were approaching shallow water. Light was beginning to filter through again.

_We'll have a house on the water, full of kids and happy shouts and love, and we can stay there with each other until time ends. You and me._

The light was growing brighter and brighter, and they were seconds away from bursting through. It felt as if sledgehammers were pounding on Summer's head; she grit her teeth and dug her fingernails into the dolphin's skin.

_I love you Seth Cohen. I'll be waiting._

The weight of all the water vanished from Summer's back as she felt the two of them rocket into the air. The spent air exploded out of her lungs and she desperately sucked in a fresh breath. Bracing herself for her headache to come back, pounding with a vengeance, she was surprised to find it completely gone.

Sitting upright on the dolphin's back, she looked around at her surroundings. They were in an idyllic landscape, sliding though the water of a lily-pad filled pond on a beautiful, grassy plain. In the distance, Summer could see the ocean and a beach. "There," she said to no-one. "Seth, that is where we will live."

The dolphin swam up to the shoreline to drop her off. She rubbed his head. "Thanks for the ride. Hope I didn't scratch you of anything."

_No problem. It was my pleasure._ A voice familiar to Summer rang through Summer's head. She hopped off his back, squatted in the thigh-deep water and looked into its face. Over the view of the goofily smiling dolphin, she could see the grinning face of a certain large Samoan gentleman.

"Oh, Jai." She ran her hand across the side of his face and snuggled her nose into the end of his snout.

_Aw, kid, don't mention it._ Jai pulled away after a second. _I will be visiting every once in a while, but I've got another job to do. Anyway, there's someone up on the land who's looking for you. See you later, Summer._ He swam out to the center of the pond, jumped into the air, and dove with a terrific splash. After the bubbles died down, there was no sign left of him. Summer looked on for another moment, then climbed up onto shore. After shaking as much water off herself as she could, she looked off into the distance and saw someone looking back at her.

They looked familiar. She couldn't see the face, but the figure was definitely feminine. "Marissa?" She began to run forward. As she got closer, Summer realized that it certainly wasn't Marissa. It took her a few more seconds of running forward before she realized who it was.

"Oh my God." Summer burst into a sprint as the other figure ran up to her. They met in a half-hug, half-collision; Summer pressed her face into the other woman's shoulder.

"Hey, baby." The other woman patted Summer's back as sobs began to wrack through Summer's body. Summer snuggled her face in tighter.

"Oh...Mommy..."

"Sssh, honey. Everything is all right now. You made it." Summer's mother held her daughter in tight as Summer melted into her arms.

**END**

-)-)-)-)

Once again...thank you for reading, thank you for reviewing, and thank you for putting up with all my procrastination. You've all been awesome, and I hope that you've enjoyed this.

Quicksilvre


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